


Storm From The South

by lanuitetoilee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Romance, Slow Burn, Trust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-05-31 15:52:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 135,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15122789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanuitetoilee/pseuds/lanuitetoilee
Summary: Hazel has lived everywhere, so she didn't expect that the Scotland would be where she begins to see things in a new light, a light that might just change everything for her.





	1. Buckets, Sunrises, and Sitting

A strong wind danced across the goosebumps that had already formed on my arms as I stepped out and into the early morning. Behind, I could hear my brother fidgeting with his suitcases as he tried to find an activity to keep his hands busy. Just a day ago, our parents accidentally revealed to us that we were moving once again. I should have seen the signs. They had been nicer than usual the past few weeks, even going as far as getting the family tickets to the World Cup. That's how they always did it, though. In the time leading up to the move, they'd always try to butter us up to soften the blow. Though this time, even the promise of being able to see a once in a lifetime game wasn't enough.

When my brother and I were younger, our family moved around very often. It was always one place after the other. At the time I didn't mind. It was fun and I was given the opportunity to see places that I wouldn't have been able to have seen otherwise. Though as I got older, the constant change and the lack of stability fed into the annoyance that had begun to fester within me. With each move, they allowed had allowed us to stay longer and longer in each location. Right before Michael and I started school, we had stayed in our town for nearly two years. We had both assumed that it was our last move and began to set some roots and form close bonds with friends, a luxury that we hadn't allowed ourselves to have before. But a week before classes were to have begun, our parents quickly uprooted us and took off to the next location. This move changed something within them, or so we thought. They saw the devastation and our heartache and promised that this was the last one. Now that school had started, they wouldn't do it again. They swore. And for three years, they kept that vow. Until today. The day we were off to the World Cup.

I crossed my arms and waited huffed into the cold wind of the Swiss morning. Could they be taking any longer?

"Mum! Dad! Could you please hurry up? It's freezing out here!"

I knew that I was being a brat, but I allowed myself this outburst. Here they were again, making us leave behind everything we had worked so hard for. And for what? Because they were bored of Andermatt? That was the other thing, they always refuse to tell us why we were leaving. The times that they did answer, it never felt honest. They would give some frivolous response like, "I heard that the pastries there are simply to die for!" or "Can't you see us going on hikes in the hills that they showed in that muggle film?" I always felt like they were leaving something out, as if there was something to hide.

When my parents finally walked out of our house – excuse me, ex-house – they smiled sheepishly at myself and my brother, as if they were the children, not us.

"Hazel, Michael, we're really sorry that we have to do this," my mother said as she wrapped a lithe arm around each of us, "but just imagine going back to the place you were born! Don't you remember that you were born in Bath? Well, of course you don't, but you know what I mean! You'll finally be able to explore your homeland, why, even going to school with kids just like you!"

"We  _do_  go to school with kid like us." Michael said. They were the first out to have left his mouth since the day before, when Mum and Dad had made their announcement.

Mum looked at him with her pale green eyes that looked so much like ours and frowned, but a quickly as she frowned, she smiled once again. "Oh honey, please don't make a big deal out of this. You two should be used to it by now! It's not like it's your first move. You know what? You know that broom you've wanted for a while? Your father and I will get it soon as we're settled. It was going to be your Christmas present but we'll get you something else. Isn't that right, Richard?"

Dad, who had stood in silence, walked towards us and smiled. "Yes, Katherine. And Hazel," he looked straight into my eyes, "whatever you want, I'll get it for you. There's no price too high."

I glared at him and grunted. I refused to be bought. "Now where's this portkey? You said that it leaves at dawn and I'm pretty sure the sun'll be out soon."

"Oh right," Dad looked down at his watch with his eyebrowed furrowed. "It leaves in fifteen minutes. It's in the pasture about an acre away. Look for an old milking bucket."

I set off, muttering " _Locomotor_ " and flicking my wand to get my trunk and suitcases to follow me. I walked briskly and determinedly, using my height to my advantage as I took long strides to create a larger distance between myself and my parents. About a minute into the walk I felt my brother fall in stride with me and he nudged me with his shoulder.

"You know, you don't have to be so harsh with them." He said as he looked at the horizon. The sky was beginning to turn into a delicate pink, the color mixing beautifully with the lush green grass that covered Switzerland. I knew I would missing watching the sunrise in such a magical setting, so I looked forward with him, trying to etch the scenery into my memory.

"Says the person who has ignored them for a day." I retorted, bumping his shoulder with my own.

"Yeah, but really, what did we expect? That we were going to live the rest of our lives here? You know Mum and Dad, the moment a place gets too comfortable, they can't take it anymore."

"But aren't you sick of it? I guess it was sort of fine when we were younger…but we've started school and made friends! They led us to believe that we'd stay here until we finish school."

"I am, but what can we go? Until we're 17, they're in control of us."

"That's three whole years, and for all we know, three different schools. I love Mum and Dad but I don't think I could take that."

Michael shrugged and looked back at our parents. I did the same and saw them deep in conversation with their foreheads wrinkled. I faced forward again and sighed. Merlin only knows what they're talking about. After a few more steps I saw a dark shape nestled into the ground.

"Found it." I said as I jogged to retrieve the bucket. It was rusty and looked close to rotting. I jogged back to my family and placed it in the center of our circle.

"Now, Hazel, Michael, I think you remember how to use a portkey. One finger should be enough. Make sure you have a hold on all your luggage. It won't be easy to get back here if we leave something behind." Dad instructed.

I had half a mind to do just that but ended up deciding against it. IT wasn't going to change anything and I'd just be without half my wardrobe for a few hours.

"Should be about time. Everyone, get ready."

I grabbed all my things and put my left index finger to the damp wood.

"3…2…"

I felt a tug on my navel as the green and the pink swirled around me and disappeared. The next thing I knew I felt like I was being dropped out of the sky. I'd never really been good with portkeys and braced myself for the impact of my body hitting the ground.

"Oomf!"

I furrowed my brows, wondering where the sound came from. It wasn't from me. I looked over to my brother who had landed on his bum ten feet away and my parents who stood next to him with horrified looks in their eyes.

"What?!" I asked, annoyance enveloping the word as I glared at their shocked faces.

"H-H-Hazel, stand up immediately." My mother stammered.

"Why should I?" I asked indignantly.

"Because you're sitting on my chest." A voice said from below me.


	2. Farting and Wand Stealing

I looked down and immediately realised as to why my landing has been so soft. I had landed on a person.

I scrambled off of him, nearly injuring myself in the process.

"I'm so sorry! I never meant to fall on you. I can't believe I didn't realize – I'm so sorry." I knelt beside the boy and fervently tried to remove whatever dirt I'd left on his body.

The boy laughed, his bespectacled green eyes twinkling with amusement.

"It's fine," he chuckled, sitting up, "no harm, no foul. I mean, if you only hadn't farted on me, I'd be in the clear."

I heard laughter and looked up to see a family, all with brilliant red hair, snickering. They also seemed to have a frizzy, brown-haired companion, who like me, wasn't tickled in the slightest. A quick peek at my own familial unit revealed that my brother was laughing with them.

I whipped my head back at the boy and scowled at him, my pale green eyes boring into his bright ones. "I did no such thing!"

Annoyed, I proceeded to shove him back a few inches or so and shot up to my feet.

"There's no need to be ashamed," he continued, standing up and pushing back some of his dark hair, "it's all natural."

I huffed and walked to my family, arms across my chest.

"I think you're forgetting this," he called out after me. I turned around and saw my wand dangling between his fingertips.

"You nicked my wand from me?"

"I did no such thing." He mocked, albeit good-naturedly.

"At least what I did was an accident. You on the other hand –"

"What's all this commotion about?" A man with hair just as red as his children's and two haggard looking men made their way through the sea of red to where the boy stood.

"Well, Mr. Weasley, we were all waiting for you to come back when a new family arrived. One of them accidentally fell on Harry." The brunette said matter-of-factly. "And now it seems that Harry took her wand as some sort of retaliation."

The man to whom she referred to as "Mr. Weasley" turned his attention to where I stood with my family.

"I don't believe it, Katherine? Rich? Is that you?" His jaw dropped in surprise as he registered the presence of my parents.

"Arthur?" My mother said incredulously, recognition dawning on her face. Who was this man and how did my parents know him?

"It's been years!" Mr. Weasley came forward and pulled her into an embrace.

"Too many," Mum acknowledged.

"Rich!" Mr. Weasley said enthusiastically, moving from my mum to my dad.

"How have you been all these years?" Dad asked as he and Mr. Weasley thumped each other on the back. "I see you've been busy." Dad continued, gesturing to the Weasley clan.

The tips of Mr. Weasley's wears turned a prominent shade of pink. "They're not all mine. All the red ones are, but the other two are my youngest son's friends, Harry and Hermione. Mind, I do have three more at home. They'll be apparating in later."

Just as my mum was about to say something in return, the two men that Mr. Weasley had been walking with piped up.

"You're the Mastersons, yes?" A man with a long piece of parchment asked. He wore a pink poncho with a predominately green kilt.

"Yes, that's right." Dad replied.

"You lot weren't supped to be here for another hour!"

"We didn't make the portkey, we were just given a time.

"Alistaire probably wrote it wrong," he frowned. "Damn it, now who knows who else might arrive at the wrong time!"

The man next to him who was holding a pocket watch in his left hand bustled forward and took the bucket and threw it into a large bin of other used portkeys.

The man with the parchment spoke again, "Well, doesn't matter now. Masterson…Masterson, okay, you lot will be in the same field as Arthur. Just follow him, I've already shown him where to go. You better get a move on. We've got a big party coming from the Black Forest at five fifteen and we wouldn't want a repeat of what just happened."

Mr. Weasley clasped his hands together and smiled at us all. "Thanks Basil. Alright everyone, onward!"

He started forward and my parents walked beside him, joyously catching each other up since their last encounter. The rest of us followed behind trudging through the misty moor. As we went on, I noticed two other people that I hadn't registered before – obviously non Weasleys since they lacked the red hair – walking along with us. It appeared to be a father-son duo. The younger of the two towered over his father and walked with a humble sort of confidence. He suddenly laughed at something that the twin Weasley boys had said and it caused a burst of energy to ripple through the group. Conversations were started up amongst the rest of us and I sped to catch up to my brother.

"Thanks, Mike." I said when I fell into step with him.

"For what?" He asked, a curious smile on his face.

"Exactly." I said before letting myself fall back.

Of all people, my twin brother had sided with the complete stranger. A nagging voice within me was saying that he really "siding" with anyone and that had the situations been reversed, I would've laughed too but…wait, where was I going with this?

Having lost my train of thought, I looked around and zeroed in on my new target.

"Hey jerk," I said to "Harry" when I reached him, "don't think that I've forgotten that you  _still_  have my wand."

He turned slightly to look at me and smirked, "I think I should keep it. It can be your apology gift for nearly squishing the life out of me."

"Give it back."

"No, I don't think I will."

"Harry, or whatever your name is, I'm not kidding. Give me back my wand."

At this, his face softened. It did wonders to his overall demeanor. A wave of relief seemed to relax his shoulders and his body seemed more fluid, more receptive. All the playfulness that had been there just seconds before disappeared and he held out my wand. "Hey, right, yeah, sorry. Here's your wand."

I looked at him suspiciously, wondering what had brought about this new attitude. I hesitantly reached out for my wand, half expecting it to blow up as soon as I touched it or for him to swiftly cast a spell, but it neither exploded nor threw a spell at me.

"Thanks, I guess." I said, quickly shoving it into the back pocket of my dark jeans as we maintained eye contact. The navy, wool sweater that I had put on this morning was now felt like it was suffocating me and I moved to pull it off. After tying it around my waist, I looked back at Harry and was startled to find him still looking at me. I mindlessly started to scratch at the goosebumps that still lingered on my arms.

"Yeah, no problem." He replied, finally breaking contact.

We ended up walking together in silence the rest of the way to the field where the father and son who'd been accompanying us said their goodbyes and continued on to their own campsite. After the adults paid Mr. Roberts, the owner of the field, we continued to walk together and did so until we reached our respective spots. It was only then that we even dared as to look at each other again.

Harry and I stood face to face waiting for the other to speak when we both started to speak at the same time. Laughing, I was the first to say, "You first."

"No, you. I insist." He said, his eyes crinkling in the corners with amusement.

"Um, I guess, thanks for walking with me."

"Same here."

"Though, I still think you are a thieving jerk."

"It's not my fault that you're unobservant." He smirked again.

"I am plenty observant, thank you very much. I just didn't think someone who looked like you would do such a thing." I could feel my cheeks tinge pink as my brain processed what my mouth had said.

His smirk turned into a full-blown grin. "And what do I look like?" He asked, his slightly raspy voice dripping with delight.

I scrambled to think of a believable response so that I could walk away with whatever dignity I had left after the morning's events. "Like a, like a –"

"Hazel! I need your help over here!" My mum called from where she and my father had unfolded a tent.

"Oops, got to go. Mummy's calling." I said, thankful for once that my mum was incompetent with tools.

"You know, you'll have to tell me sooner or later!" Harry said as I backed away.

"The later, the better!" I replied, turning away so he couldn't see the stupid smile I had on my face.

* * *

I'd been able to avoid Harry all through the walk to the stadium and throughout the match. We were all seated in the Top Box, so how I had managed that feat honestly surprised me. From where I sat two rows back, I could see him easily. I watched how he interacted with the Weasleys, a bunch that I had learned were some of the nicest, funniest people. I watched how he handled an interaction with a family with platinum blonde hair who seemed to rub him the wrong way. Every once in a while, we'd catch each other's eye, and when that happened, I would stare him down until he looked away. I felt slightly childish but the rush I got when I won quickly pushed that emotion down.

The game itself was enthralling. I was at the edge of my seat for nearly the whole game and was just as surprised as everyone else when Fred and George's prediction came to fruition. It was hilarious watching them amble their way to Ludo Bagman and ask for their gold.

It was only on the way out of the stadium that Harry was able to catch me off guard.

"You can't keep running forever, Hazel." He whispered into my ear. A slight tingle running down my spine.

I mentally cursed myself for one, letting him find out my name, and two, for thinking that I could hide on the outskirts of our group and avoid him.

"Who said anything about running? I for one simply abhor the task, much more of a broom lass myself. I'm pretty good, too. Not as great as Krum by any means, but better than you'd think considering –"

"If you'd just tell me what you were going to say earlier, I'll promise to leave you alone."

I arched an eyebrow at his statement.

"I swear!" He asserted, "Chaser's promise."

"Fine," I said, pretending to pick lint off my sweater. "I was going to say that you look like a…a…a Keeper. Yup, that's right, a Keeper! You know Keepers, they're usually the nicest, most trustworthy guys on the team. Why would a Keeper steal my wand?"

"I don't believe you." He stated. I looked up at him and cursed myself for doing so. His green eyes immediately caught my own and he arched his eyebrow as if challenging me.

"It doesn't matter whether you believe me or not. You swore you'd leave me alone when I told you."

"I did swear, didn't I?" He mused, tapping his forefinger on his chin. "Chaser's promise, too."

"Yup," I pulled the sleeves of my sweater to cover my hands as I balled them into fists.

"Too bad that I'm a Seeker, not a Chaser."

"You conniving little shit." I nearly yelled.

"Hazel," my father boomed.

I stopped walking and turned back to look at Dad. I'd been so concentrated on my and Harry's conversation that I hadn't realised that we had just arrived back at our tents, away from the crowd, and in a quiet enough place where my father could hear my curse.

"Sorry, Dad." I muttered, hanging my head in shame. He and the rest of the group caught up to where Harry and I stood and passed us without so much as a look back.

I reached down and picked up a stick, throwing it at Harry. "Look what you did now! You've gotten me in trouble with my parents."

"Careful, you sure that wasn't your wand?" He teased, pulling the twig out of his tousled hair.

As he struggled slightly to pull it free, a portion of the front of his hair lifted up and revealed an oddly shaped scar on his forehead.

"Hey, where'd you get that?" I asked, leaning forward to get a better look. "I feel like I've seen that before."

Harry quickly replaced his hair, covering up the scar. "Nowhere."

"No, really Harry, how'd you get that?" I asked.

"You're telling me you don't really know?"

"No." I replied, completely sincere. Our eyes met again and he stared at them intently, as if trying to read my mind.

"I'm Harry Potter."

"Harry Pott—oh." How could I have been so dense? I guess I truly was as unobservant as he said I was. "Alright."

"What, aren't you going to ask for my autograph now? Fawn over my scar? Ask me if it hurts?"

"What would my finding out that you're _the_  Harry Potter change how I talk to you?"

"Haven't you heard of me?"

"Of course I have, but you're still the same guy I met earlier today." I answered. "Still a jerk who stole a wand from an unsuspecting, very innocent girl and likes to lie about what position he plays in Quidditch."

Harry grinned, "Yeah, I guess I am."

* * *

It was hard to sleep that night. Everyone was celebrating, none louder than the Irish camp, so we call convened in the Weasley tent and had our own party. I'd been having so much fun with Harry, Ron, my brother, and Hermione, that I didn't know that I was so exhausted. I didn't even realize that I'd fallen asleep until all of a sudden, I was being awoken by Mr. Weasley.

"Kids, kids, wake up!"

"What is it Dad?" Fred, or was that George, asked.

"No time, Fred – everyone just grab a jacket and get outside – quickly!"

Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I finally noticed that the noise emanating from the outside had changed. Gone was the music and the cheering, now the night was filled with screams and alcohol-soaked laughter.

"Michael, Hazel. Get a move on!" Mum shouted, throwing us our coats.

I did as I was told and hurried out of the tent only to be confronted with complete and utter chaos.


	3. Horror

I froze in horror, unable to believe what I was seeing. Flocks of people were taking to the woods, many with their infant children held tightly against their chests. They all seemed to be fleeing from a dark mass that was moving slowly across the field. From the mass, I discerned the laughter I had heard just moments before, as well as yelling and grotesque profanity. Some appeared to have their wands out and pointed them to the sky. I followed the direction of their wands and saw that the man we had paid earlier and a few others that I could only guess were his family was being levitated nearly 60 feet off the ground and while being manipulated into distorted shapes. It was so vile that I could feel all the sweets I'd consumed earlier begging to come back out.

"That's sick." Ron mutter from behind me. "That's really sick…"

Hermione and Ginny came hurrying towards us, pulling coats on. Right behind them were Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and my parents. Each had their wands out.

"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley shouted about the noise as he rolled up his sleeves. "You lot – get into the woods, and stick together. We'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"

Mum rushed over and pecked me and my brother on our cheeks. "Be safe," she instructed, " _be safe_."

"We will Mum." We said in unison.

We watched as they sprinted towards the oncoming mass. Ministry wizards were dashing from every which way to join them.

"C'mon." said Fred as he grabbed Ginny's hand and tore into the woods.

The rest of us followed his lead, only looking back when we had reached the trees.

From our vantage point we could see that the Ministry wizards were trying to get to the mass but they were having trouble. It looked as though they were scared to perform any sort of spell that might make the family fall.

We started to run again but it was hard. People were coming from every direction and shoving past each other, while others stood in place, fixated on the commotion beyond the woods.

"Shit!" I heard Ron yell.

"What happened?" Hermione asked anxiously, stopping so abruptly I ran into her. "Ron, where are you? Oh, this is stupid –  _Lumos_!"

She took her illuminated wand and directed its beam across the path. Ron was lying sprawled on the ground.

"Tripped over a bloody tree rot," he said angrily, getting to his feet again.

"Well, with feet that size, hard not to," said a haughty voice from behind Ron.

I turned to the voice. It was one of the platinum blond people from the Top Box, the son if I wasn't mistaken. He was standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed amongst the madness.

"Get lost, Malfoy." Harry said through gritted teeth. His body, which had already been tense from the situation, seemed to be completely still now as if he was trying his hardest to keep his anger from exploding.

"I'd watch my words if I were you, Potter." Said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering even in the dark.

"Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?" He nodded at Hermione.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione said defiantly.

"Granger, they're after Muggles," he drawled. "D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around…they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."

"Hermione's a witch," Harry snarled.

"Have it your own way, Potter. If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."

"You take that back!" I yelled, anger coursing through my veins.

"And who are you?" Malfoy smirked, clearly only having noticed me now.

I opened my mouth to speak but Hermione stopped me.

"Never mind, Hazel," Hermione said quickly, seizing Ron's arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Malfoy.

A bang came from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything we had heard. Several people nearby screamed. Malfoy just chuckled softly.

"Scare easily, don't they?" he said lazily. "I supposed your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to – trying to rescue Muggles?"

"Where're your parents?" Harry said, a vein rising on his neck. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"

Malfoy turned his face to Harry, still smiling.

"Well...if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?"

"Let's go. We've lost the others." Michael said to us all as he grabbed my hand.

We made it back to the path before Ron spoke again.

"I'll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!"

"Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!" was all Hermione could say. "Oh, I can't believe this. Where have the others got to?"

"I think th—"

_Bang!_

About ten feet away from where I stood, a tree burst apart, chips of it flying everywhere. I dropped myself to the ground and covered my head. Time seemed to pass differently as I lay on the ground. I couldn't tell how long I'd been on my stomach. My ears were ringing from the blast and a throbbing had begun to pound my skull. Beneath me I could feel the vibrations of feet running through the forest.

"Michael?" I croaked, opening my eyes.

I was met with an eerie silence and isolation. The screams that had just minutes before been the background music to my living nightmare were gone and I was alone.

"Hermione? Ron?"

With a push, I sat up and tried to get a good look around me. It was so dark that I could barely see the shape of my hand in front of me.

"Ugh, damn this,  _Lumos Maxima_."

The bright light blinded me as my eyes struggled to adjust but by the time I stood up, I could easily survey the area around me. I had lost the rest of the group. My only guess was they ran from the blast while I tried to take cover. How would I find them in this mess?

A whisper from behind me broke the silence. " _Petrificus Totalus_."

I felt my body lock into place, all paralyzed but my eyes. I tried as hard as I could to see from whom the spell had come from but it was to no avail. My eyes darted from left to right in a blur as panic started to fester in the pit of my stomach.

"And who may you be?" the voice was throaty and hoarse, as if worn after years of screaming.

My mind raced with all of the things I could say but I knew that it was impossible for me to even try and vocalize.

"Just how I like them, quiet." The man said.

Two hands found themselves at my waist, so cold that I could feel it through my clothes. Chills ran through my body as dread settled in. I prayed that someone would happen across us, that another blast would knock this man unconscious or maybe even kill him. The hand moved southward and played at the top of my jeans. He rubbed slow, awful circles on my hip bones, a soft moan escaping his lips. The skin where he touched burned and stung, more my body's reaction than any spell he may have conjured. I could hear him taking in the scent of me and soon felt his face against my skull as he nuzzled into my hair.

"Don't worry, lassie, it'll be over faster than you think."

His hands had just dipped an inch into my pants when he retreated and mumbled, "Fuck."

I could hear as his footsteps withdrew, leaving me again all by myself. I knew that I should have felt relief, but the dread within me multiplied tenfold as I realised that I was still frozen in place, the spell not having worn off yet. The light from my wand was just about to fade out when the footsteps came back. Tears welled up in my eyes and I wished that he would put me out of my misery.

"Hazel?" a sob was able to escape my lips as they reluctantly parted.

"Just kill me instead." I managed to say, unsure of how he found out my name.

"What?  _Lumos_."

"Kill me." I repeated, feeling coming back into my arms and legs but not enough to move them.

"What do you mean?" Just then, the person speaking stepped into my line of vision.

It was the boy from earlier, the one that had traveled with the Weasleys. I realised at that moment that their voices were different, he wasn't the man from earlier. He looked at me with confusion and worry emanating from his grey eyes.

"How did this happen to you?" He asked, his hands finding my shoulders.

"I don't know, some man petrified me and…" I stopped, I didn't want to say anymore. I didn't even know his name.

"Did he hurt you?" He asked, his eyes connecting with mine, trying to force the truth out of me.

"Not really." It wasn't a complete lie.

"Can you move now?"

I tried to move a finger and found it able to wiggle. I tried my right arm and when it moved, I quickly grabbed my wand and ensured that I held it with a firm grasp.

"Where's the rest of your group?"

"I lost them after  _that_  tree," I pointed to my left at a singeing trunk, "was blasted apart."

He looked over at the carnage and shook his head with disgust. He turned back to me and proffered his arm. "Let's go find them."

I eyed his extended limb and contemplated whether or not to take it. Everything within me wanted to politely decline but I knew that there was a high possibility I would break down if I wasn't sure there was someone next to me.

I looked at him and nodded, timidly resting the tips of my fingers on his person. I moved to start walking but before I could take a step, he used his free hand to gently guide my own into a steadier grip on his arm. He looked me in the eyes and checked to see if it was too much for me. I offered him a small smile.

As we started walking, a question gnawed at me. "I wonder why he left in such a hurry." I said to myself in a tone barely above a whisper.

"It's probably because of that." The boy said pointing to a green skull and snake in the sky.

* * *

"Hazel!" Michael shouted when I came into view.

He sprinted towards me and pulled me into a hug. He and Harry, Ron, and Hermione had found the others as well as our parents. Mum and Dad were right behind him and pulled me into another embrace. Mum's face was wet, no doubt from tears that still lingered in her eyes.

"Don't do that again." She commanded.

I said nothing, letting them hug me. When they let go, I turned to look back at the boy and found him being hugged by his father.

"Cedric, you all righ'?" his father asked.

"Yeah Dad, I'm fine."

"What happened, why weren't you with the others?" My father asked, startling me to look back him.

I turned again to Cedric, who this time was staring right back at me. I pleaded silently to him to not say a word before facing my father once more.

"Well, a tree was blasted and I laid on the ground to shield myself from the debris. I guess they thought I was right behind them. But it's okay, I got back, didn't I?"

"Did Cedric here find ya?" Cedric's father asked.

"Yeah, and we decided that we'd find you all together. Two's better than one, right?"

Our group all turned to Cedric to corroborate my story and he smiled easily, "Yeah. Yeah, that's right. We found each other and made quite the duo."

* * *

We all returned to our tents and tried to salvage the night's sleep. Slowly snores started coming from my family's tent and the Weasleys' tent but they provided no help in inducing my own. I stayed awake for those few hours, replaying my horror over and over and over again and struggling not to cry.

At six, my parents 'woke' myself and my brother up and used magic to pack our things. Within minutes we were heading towards the spot where the Portkeys lay. Mr. Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil and we joined the queue. Cedric, his father, and the Weasley party were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill, where they'd left from, while my family and two others grabbed a broken hand vacuum that took us to a back room of the Leaky Cauldron.


	4. Ruffling Feathers

I had been to Diagon Alley before, nearly three years to the day. My parents had received their wands from Ollivanders, as had their parents, and their parents' parents, and so on. They believed that it was only tradition that Michael and I were to get our wands from there as well. The whole trip had lasted no longer than two hours, after getting wands and having a quick lunch, we were back in Switzerland.

So, in the week leading up to school, I allowed myself to reacquaint with the alley. I wandered in and out of each store, taking my time to let it all in. I kept an ear open for all the accents as I tried to familiarize myself to their lilts and rhythm of speaking. My days would start out by grabbing a cone from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and then heading to the shop that tickled my fancy that day. When I'd enter a shop that had items from my school list, I'd buy the necessities and had them sent to my room. Inside Flourish and Blotts, I came across some of what I could only assume would be my future classmates. I eyed twin Indian girls with matching plaits picking out the same books I had bought. As I mused the thought of heading over and introducing myself, one of the twins began to squeal and ran towards a girl with dirty blonde hair. Their excited chatter began to fill the store and I resigned myself to simply leave.

My mind wandered as I stepped away from the book shop and I let my feet take over. It wasn't until I was already inside Eeylops Owl Emporium that I realised where I was. Hooting, mewing, and croaking created a cacophony of noise as I carefully examined each animal. I had never bothered getting an owl when I started school, I thought that the school's owls would suffice, and I had been right. When I was in my first year, I had planned on updating my parents every month or so of my progress but with each letter it took longer and longer to get a reply back and sometimes, there wouldn't even be a letter.

"Anything catch your eye, sweetling?" asked the older woman behind the counter.

"Oh, I'm just looking."

"You look like you could do with an owl. They make for very unobtrusive and understanding pets." She moved from behind the counter and stood next to me. "Which catches your fancy?"

Looking up, I made eye contact with a Burrowing Owl with brown, honey, and cream coloured feathers. It swooped down and landed on my shoulder, nipping my ear.

"Ah, looks like this one's taken a liking to you. Only arrived yesterday. D'you want him?"

I lifted my arm and he hopped onto my wrist. I looked over his seemingly silky feathers and smiled. He hooted in response.

"I guess I'll take him." As I reached into my purse to grab a handful of galleons. The woman beamed and handed me a bronze cage.

"I could do with a friend, _Hermes._ " I said as we walked back to my room.

* * *

 "I'm coming with you!" Mother insisted as she followed me out of her and Dad's room.

"No, I can handle myself. It's just school robes!"

"Can't a mother want to spend time with her daughter?"

"No." I sped down the stairs and to the bar area of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Oh, Hazel, you don't mean that." Mum said, right on my heel. Damn, I'd forgotten how quick she could be.

"Mum, please, I want to get this over with, I haven't packed yet. I have lots to do."

"Hazel, just let me have this and I promise I won't pester you again today."

I crossed my arms and eyed her warily, "Alright, you can come, but I swear if you fawn over how much I've grown or something of that sort, I  _will_  leave and start a new life in Egypt."

Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was much more informal than any other wizarding clothes shop I'd been too. Madam Malkin didn't have that frown that most wizard tailors seem to have permanently glued to her face, but rather a gentle smile. She and my mum chatted away, having apparently gone to school at the same time.

It had been a weird past few days watching my parents live in an environment where they knew everyone and vice versa. They seemed at peace, at home here, more so than any other place we'd lived. Their demeanours had changed a full one hundred eighty degrees. I hoped it was their bodies' way of telling them that this was where they belonged and where we would stay.

"You're of a tall sort, arent'cha dearie?" Madam Malkin said as the last of the measurements were taken.

"I guess," I said awkwardly, now painfully aware of how tall I was in comparison to my peers. At 14, I was 5'9", towering over my mother and most female classmates, but still shorter than my brother and father.

"Gets it from Rich's side, Godric knows that my family is nothing short of average height."

"Now, what colour do you want your robes to be?" Madam Malkin asked, waving a wand to charm the worktable in the corner. Sheets of black fabric begun to fly from every which way and convened on the tabletop.

My forehead creased with confusion, "The regular colour?"

"No, for your  _dress robes_ , for the –"

"Uh uh, Margie, she doesn't know yet."

"Doesn't know what?" I interjected.

Both women looked at me then turned to the other.

"Ah, then what colour do you think it should be?" Madam Malkin asked Mum.

Mum thought for a moment and then whispered something into her ear.

"Oh yes, that would look very pretty."

"What are you two talking about?" I inquired, fetching my purse from a plush chair next to the vanity.

"Nothing, honey," Mum replied.

"What in the world would I do with dress robes? Mum?" I paused, waiting for her to say something. "Tell me!"

Because Katherine Masterson continued to ignore her only child – well, the only good one – I took to storming out of the store like the teenager I was and stomped all the way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"If I were only of age…" I muttered, sitting down at a dusty table in the corner of the dining room.

"If you were only of age, what?" asked my brother, sitting in the chair opposite of me.

"If I were only of age, I'd get a shot of Firewhisky right now."

"Now what's leading our little Hazel to the bottle?" Michael leaned back in his chair, amused by my anger.

"Mum."

"Mum, I should've guessed. What happened now?"

"We were getting my robes –"

"Should have done that on your own, like I did on Friday."

"I  _tried_  but Mum kept insisting to tag along and you know how insufferable she can get."

"Alright, so?"

"So, she was fine up until Madam Malkin asked me what colour I wanted for my dress robes. I didn't get what she was asking at first, I thought she was referring to my school robes, so I said 'regular' and Madam Malkin was about to say what the dress robes were for before Mum stopped her."

"Yeah, what are the dress robes for? I got a set but I forgot to ask why I needed them."

"Like I said," I swatted his arm I annoyance, "I was trying to find out but they just ignored me so I stormed out."

"And now you want Firewhisky. Alright, I'm caught up." He leaned forward. "Look, Hazel, just one more day and we'll be at school. You won't have to be around Mum during all hours of the day anymore. You think you can handle that? I really don't want to leave tomorrow with everyone mad."

"I'm not mad, just annoyed. You know I love Mum and Dad, but I'm still irritated about the move and having to start all over again. I just wish we weren't always on our toes, wondering how long before it's time to go."

I looked at the face that was so similar to mine and watch as it sighed and nodded, "Let's go finish packing."

The next morning, I woke up earlier than the rest of my family. At six in the morning, I trudged out of bed and shuffled over to the window. The sun was just about to rise over the horizon and just the sight of it took me back to the day of the World Cup. It seemed like just yesterday. At first, I was having more fun than I thought I would be having in a strange new place, but then...My body gave an involuntary shudder as my mind brought back the painful memory of the night that followed. I closed my eyes and took in a cold, shaky breath. I hadn't told anyone, not even Michael, but I could feel that he sensed something had happened. I stayed at the window watching the street wake with the sun until I started to hear stirring in the room next to mine. I was pulling out a black sweater and a pair of Muggle jeans when I heard a soft rasp on my door.

"Come in," I called, putting on my socks.

"Oh, you're awake." Michael was still in his pyjamas. He hopped onto my bed and glanced at my clothes. "Didn't think you'd be up early."

"I just woke up," I lied.

"Mum and Dad are still asleep. I knocked there first."

"That's all really interesting information," I walked over and stared at his wrinkled clothes and sleep-crusted eyes, "Now get out. I have to get dressed." I pulled him off my bed and ruffled his dark brown hair that matched my own. I moved to get behind him and used all my strength to get him out the door.

"Rude." He said as I shut the door in his face.

I smiled to myself, happy that I could always count on my brother to make me grin. Yanking off my top, I went to grab the sweater when I heard a tapping on my window. I screeched, expecting to see a man's face in the window. Much to my relief, it was just Hermes returning from his hunt. I quickly put on my sweater and scampered over to open the window and his cage.

"Hermes, you scared me. Next time if you see I'm dressing, wait until I'm done." I fed him a treat. "Understand?"

He nibbled on my finger and hopped into his cage. I changed my bottoms and went to check that all my things were in order. I checked and double checked that I had all my books and even the robes that Mum left at my door the night before when she had finally returned. Dad told me at dinner that there was a village near Hogwarts that we were allowed to visit so I also put in a few outfits for those trips.

"Hazel?" Someone called through my door. Looking at the clock, it read half past eight.

I opened my door and was met with the still handsome visage of my father.

"Yes, Dad?" I asked, running a hand through my hair.

"Oh good, you're ready. Breakfast is at nine and after we'll be heading for the train. You all set?"

I looked back at my trunks and nodded at him. "Packed."

Dad smiled down at me and pulled me into a warm embrace. I hugged him back tightly, relishing in the safety I felt in his arms. All too soon, we broke apart. "Oh Hazel, you're all grown."

He kissed the top of my head and I pretended to squirm beneath his kiss but smiled all the same. "Daaad!" I whined.

He chuckled and pulled me in for one last hug before turning around. "Nine!" He called over his shoulder.

I rolled my eyes at the back of his head and shut my door. I made sure the door was completely shut though before breaking out into a grin. Dad always had a way of making me forgive him without my even knowing.

I put my wand – which had been on the nightstand – into a pocket of my jeans and walked to Hermes. "Here's hoping that this'll be the last move," I said as I give him a treat. He hooted and ruffled his feathers.

Half an hour later I dashed down the flight of stairs to see that my family was already sitting at a table, plates filled with food. I sat down next to Michael and I scooped up some sausage and eggs and tried my hardest to ignore the conversation they were already having. Our parents were reminiscing about their days at Hogwarts as well as offering advice. I picked up a few words here and there, which were all weird out of context. "Wart on his bottom", "giant squid", and "Uranus" were just a few of the things I caught.

With the last of our utensils hitting our plates, Mum stood up and with a wave of her wand summoned our belongings to the bottom of the stairs.

"We'll be off now. Michael, can you hurry out and hail us a cab?"

Michael, ever the diligent and obedient son, nodded and walked out the street door of the Three Broomsticks.

"Hazel, honey," Mum called. I turned to her. "Can you help Dad and me with the trunks?"

"Sure," I said.

We all grabbed what we could with Tom the Barkeep taking the rest and made it to Michael who was waiting with a taxi. Tom put our things in the trunk and I went to sit.

"King's Cross." Dad ordered when we were all in.

"King's Cross." The man repeated and set out onto the road.

It wasn't long before had arrived at our destination. I exited the cab first and retrieved some trolleys. We loaded them in silence and after, Michael and I followed our parents as they expertly navigated through the station.

"We're here!" Mum smiled at us, stopping in the middle of the terminal.

Michael looked around and rose a single eyebrow. "That's a barrier, Mum." He said slowly.

"Very observant, Michael, you'd make a great Ravenclaw." She laughed, "Rich, wasn't your Uncle Grégoire a Ravenclaw?

"He was," Dad said as he went behind me and grabbed the trolley. "Now kids, the trick is to run into that barrier if you're a bit nervous, otherwise, just push through."

I craned my neck back to look at him, wondering what in the world he was talking about. Before I had the chance to vocalize he started running, pushing the trolley we were both holding forward.

"Da-ad!" I cried. But before the second syllable came out, we were transported onto a crowded platform with many families rushing around and boarding a scarlet train. The words 'Hogwarts Express' were written in beautiful, gold calligraphy on the front. Around me were children being kissed goodbye and friends being reunited with one another.

"Huh, never expected this." Michael said, having just pushed through with Mum holding him the same way Dad was holding me.

They let go of us and smiled ferociously, linking their hands. As they stood together, it felt like another one of those moments that confirmed my instinct that they truly belong here in England.

"Let's get out of the way." Mum led us near an entrance to the train.

"Take the trunk that has your school robes onto the train," she instructed, "the other ones will be taken care of. And yes, Hermes will be treated well Hazel."

I had been ready to open my mouth but Mum beat me to it.

"You two be good." Dad kissed each of us on the tops of our heads.

Mum began to cry then, Michael and I reached out a hand but she just looked up at us and shook her head.

"It's nothing." she sniffled, wiping a tear on Dad's shirt. "It's nothing, I swear."

Michael and I looked at each other, wondering what to do but Mum kissed us and began pushing us into the train. It's easy to forget sometimes that mums could have the strength of 20 bulls when they wanted to make their children do things. "Go, go. You'll be late. Don't want the train leaving without you."

"You've got your money, wands?" Dad asked, rubbing Mum's arm.

"Yes," we answered in unison.

"Then shoo! Your mum and I will be fine."

Michael and I climbed onto the train and found the nearest empty compartment. We searched for our parents through the window and waved when we spotted them. They came near us and waved in return.

"Love you!" Mum and Dad shouted.

"Love you!" Michael and I replied.

The train gave a grumble and beneath my feet, I could feel the wheels as they started to turn. We continued to wave out the window as the train sped away. We only stopped when the train had rounded a corner and all you could see were trees.

I sat down and sighed. So many feelings were going through my body. Excitement, confusion, loneliness, anxiety…it was hard to keep everything straight.

"…Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," said a familiar red-head, opening the compartment door. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what—"

He stopped midsentence as recognition dawn on his face. Harry and Hermione, who were right behind him stopped too, trying to peer over his shoulders to see why he was suddenly immobile.

"Ron! Harry! Hermione!" My brother greeted, getting to his feet.

I stood up as well and began to hug each of them in turn. When I reached Harry, I embraced him just a tad longer than the other two.

"You're going to Hogwarts?" Ron asked, sitting down next to Hermione. Hermione had taken the seat next to Michael.

"Well obviously, Ronald, why else would they be on the train?" She exclaimed, swatting him on the arm.

Harry smirked down at me. "Just couldn't stay away, could you?"

I rolled my eyes and looked out the window instead before I said or did something I'd regret. I quickly became entranced with the greenery that sped past me. It was actually quite beautiful and reminded me a little bit of the Swiss countryside. I was so enraptured by the view that I hadn't immediately noticed our cabin grow quiet. They all seemed to be listening to the cabin next to our where a familiar voice was speaking,

"…Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore – the man's such a Mudblood-lover – and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn, not just the defense rubbish we do…"

Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.

"So, he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" She asked angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him.

"Durmstrang's another wizarding school?" asked Harry.

"Yes," Hermione sighed, "and it's got a horrible reputation. According to  _An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe_ , it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."

"I think I've heard of it," Ron said vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"

"Well, nobody knows, do they?" said Hermione, raising her eyebrows.

"Er – why not?" said Harry.

"Rivalry," I interposed, "there's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets, but when you think about it, what huge secret could any wizarding school have? Like, what secret would you have that's worth so much that you have to hide your location? Scared that someone's going to steal your precious ratatouille recipe?"

"Come off it," said Ron, starting to laugh. "Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts – how are you going to hide a great big castle?"

"How did they hide the World Cup?" Michael said. "It'd be the same type of thing. Spells that ward off Muggles, maybe a Fidelius Charm if you really wanted…except schools tend to make themselves Unplottable too –"

"Come again?"

"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?" Hermione quipped.

"Er…if you say so," Harry said.

"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."

"Ah, think of the possibilities," said Ron dreamily. "It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident…Shame his mother likes him…"

Hermione turned her attention to me, "Where did the two of you go? Durmstrang?"

"No," I replied, pulling my left leg to my chest. "We went to the Swiss Academy of United Witches and Wizards. We tend to not be included in the rivalries seeing as we're very neutral about everything. We're even taught in English so that not one language/denomination is preferred over another. Most of the students spoke a second language of either Italian, French, Romansh, or German, though."

"I was wondering why you both spoke English so well." Ron mused.

"It might also have to do with the fact that both of our parents are English, Ron."

His ears turned pink just like his father's had the morning of the World Cup. Outside the train, the sky had turned grey and rain was beating down on the windows. It only grew darker as the trip continued, so dark that lanterns were lit early in the afternoon. I went back into the recesses of my mind as the day passed and barely said anything more. The next time I spoke was when Harry had bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for all of us to share.

"Thanks." I said, taking one.

"You're welcome." He kept my gaze until were heard a knock at the door. It was several of their friends from their "house", whatever that meant. I was introduced to a Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom. They each looked at Michael and me with disbelief, as if they'd never seen humans before.

"You're new students?" Seamus, the Irish one, asked.

Dean, who seemed much calmer about the situation, simply asked what year we'd be in.

"Fourth." Michael answered.

Neville, however, seemed too shy to ask anything. Though after Dean and Seamus said their goodbyes, he stayed for the rest of the journey. The talk went towards the World Cup as the boys relived it for Neville as he hadn't been able to go.

"We saw him right up close, as well," said Ron. "We were in the Top Box—"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

Malfoy had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood buffoonish boys, one tall, the other short and pudgy. Evidently, they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door which Dean and Seamus had left ajar.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Harry coolly.

"Weasley…what's that?" Malfoy said, pointing at Ron's open trunk. He had pulled out a miniature Krum to show to Neville. It just so happened that a sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious.

Ron bent down to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.

"Look at this!" Malfoy said gleefully, holding up Ron's robes and showing his friends, "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean – they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety!"

"Eat shit, Malfoy!" said Ron, the same colour as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Malfoy's grip. Malfoy howled with derisive laughter, the friends did the same.

"So…going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know…you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won…"

"What are you talking about?" snapped Ron.

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated slowly. "I supposed  _you_  will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

"Either explain what you're going on about or go away, Malfoy," Hermione spat, her hand subconsciously reaching towards her wand.

A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's pale face, "Don't tell me you don't know." He chortled. "You've got a father and brother in the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago…heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people of the Ministry…Maybe your father's too junior to know about it Weasley…yes…they probably don't talk about important stuff around him…"

Laughing once more, Malfoy beckoned to his cronies and the three of them left.

Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, and she pulled out her wand while muttering, " _Reparo_!"

The glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.

"Well…making it look like he knows everything and we don't…" Ron snarled. "'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry'…Dad could've got a promotion any time…he just likes it where he is…"

"Of course he does," Hermione said quietly. "Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron –"

"Him! Get to me?! As if!" said Ron, picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp.

"Look, we don't know either." I said in an attempt to comfort him.

"Me neither!" Neville squeaked.

He just shrugged and sat back down. Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey. He didn't talk as much as we changed into school robes. When we were all finished dressing, I noticed that everyone but Michael and I had scarlet and gold ties fixed at their collars.

"Where did you all get your ties? We didn't get any from Madam Malkin." I shifted my gaze to each of them, genuinely confused.

Ron looked down at his tie and said, "You get it when you're sorted."

"Sorted?"

"Into a house."

"House?"

"Ooh, you don't know."

"Know what?"

Hermione straightened her tie. "At Hogwarts, we have four houses. There's Slytherin, where Malfoy and his lot are, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff—"

"—and Gryffindors, like us." Ron smiled for the first time in an hour as he puffed out his chest.

"Yeah," I said, "Switzerland's all about 'all for one, one for all' type thing. We didn't have houses at our school, that'd start rivalries."

The Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of what Hermione told me was Hogsmeade Station.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled up and we all followed suit. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over our heads.

"Hi, Hagrid," Harry yelled to a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.

"All righ' Harry?" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

"First years traditionally reach Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid." Hermione explained from behind me. "Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing he lake in this weather."

We inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for us outside the station. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville climbed gratefully into one of them with Michael and I scurrying in after them. The door shut with a snap and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track towards the castle.

Leaning against the window, I could see the profile of Hogwarts coming nearer and nearer. Lightning flashed across the sky as our carriage came to a halt in before great oak doors which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had been in the carriages in front of us were already hurrying up the steps and into the castle as fast as they could. We jumped down from the carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when we were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, a beautiful marble staircase yards away.

"Blimey," said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak – ARRGH!"

A large, red, water filled balloon had dropped from the ceiling onto Ron head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb exploded – narrowly missing Hermione. It burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of water over his sneakers and into his socks. People all around us shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. I looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above us, a thing that appeared to be a ghost. It was a little man in a bell covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again.

"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"

A stern looking teacher appeared, dashing out of two large doors. She skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling.

"Ouch – sorry, Miss Granger."

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked the professor, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several girls who screamed and dived through the large doors that professor had come from. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of students who had just arrived.

"I shall call the headmaster!" she shouted. "I'm warning you, Peeves."

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

"Well, move along, then!" she said sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed her command and walked towards the hall, but not before throwing us sympathetic looks.

"Not you two." She smiled at us. "I expect you're Richard and Katherine's children. Hazel and Michael Masterson?"

We nodded, afraid to speak.

"Right, you'll wait here with me for the First Years. We'll sort you all together."

Michael and I stood with her as the rest of the constituents of Hogwarts entered the room through the two large doors. Everyone was dripping wet but at least didn't have Peeves throwing water balloons at them. Finally, after what felt like an hour, people stopped entering and, in the distance, I could see a flock of boats docking at the edge of the lake and all the students in them heading towards the castle. The large man from earlier led the pack and he used one of his large arms to cover a row of First Years.

"Here yer go, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid said, filing the children inside.

"Thank you, Hagrid. Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts." She gave a distinct look at myself and my brother. "You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

She left and immediately the First Years broke into hurried whispers. One particularly wet First Year was the most fervent in his speech.

"Why are they so tall?" I heard one small voice ask.

I smirked at Michael, who did the same in return.

"This is what happens when you fall into the Lake." I said, frowning.

"We both fell into the Lake earlier," Michael agreed, "and about fifteen minutes later we started growing. Professor McGonagall told us that we won't stop growing until we fill a room and only then will the swelling go down!"

"Oh my God, I think my arm's growing, Michael! Ouch! My nose!" I covered my face.

All the kids looked back at the very wet boy in horror. He looked at us, eyes wide as saucers.

Professor McGonagall returned. "Now, form a line, and follow me."

Michael and I waited to be in the back of the line before falling to a fit of silent laughter. We stopped when we entered the Great Hall and were transfixed with our surroundings. The Hall was lit with more than a thousand candles and the ceiling looked just like the outside. Up ahead, Professor McGonagall now places a three-legged stool on the ground before us and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. Everyone stared at it. For a moment, there was silence, then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song. When it finished, it was met with a round of applause.

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment. "When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told us. "When the hat announces your House, you will sit at the appropriate table.

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.

"Huh, I wonder how it does that." Michael muttered.

"Magic." I deadpanned.

"Clever." He said with an eyeroll.

As others were being sorted, I looked around to see where Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Harry sat. I found them at a table where everyone else wore the same tie as them. Further inspection showed me that all the other Weasley children still in school were at the same table. Harry caught my eye and waved. I smiled in return. I continued to look and fell across a familiar mop of dirty blond hair. Just at that moment, the head turned and made direct eye contact with me. I continued to look as he raised a singular eyebrow. I shrugged and he laughed, the remnants of which, I could hear from where I stood. His friends looked at him and followed his line of sight…which led to me. They all stared with perplexed expressions.

"Madley, Laura!"

"We'll be up soon." Michael whispered.

A knot immediately formed in my stomach and I felt my breath quicken in pace. I didn't know why I was even nervous.

"Masterson, Hazel!" Professor McGonagall called.

I waded through the group of First Years yet to be sorted. Around me, I heard the slight buzz of whispering start. They all probably wondered what I was doing being sorted at this age. Finally, I made it to the stool and smoothed out my skirt before sitting down. I placed the Sorting Hat gently onto my head and waited.

" _You aren't a First Year_." A small voice felt like it was speaking into my ear, but I could tell that it was all in my head.

" _Well spotted_." I thought.


	5. Learning Together

" _Feisty, aren't you? Hm, so where to put you? Your parents were in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor respectively. Maybe one of those Houses would suit you._ "

" _I really don't have a preference. Could you please hurry? It's getting a bit awkward. Everyone's staring._ "

" _Impatient, not very Hufflepuff of you_."

" _So I guess I'm not Hufflepuff._ "

I looked back out over the sea of students. A majority of the eyes were fixated on me and I had to use all the willpower I could muster to keep from squirming. Normally, I didn't mind being the center of attention. I was always the loud and bossy and theatrical one between my brother and I. I'd coerce him into performing little plays and such for our parents and their friends. But since… _the incident_ …it was hard to have so many eyes on me. I felt vulnerable. I quickly tried to cast that emotion out of my body.

" _I'm stronger than this._ " I thought to myself, not the hat, though he probably heard.

" _You're keen, but there's a fire inside of you. I can see that. Very daring. Not afraid to stand up_."

" _I'm about to stand up if—_ "

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat roared.

The table of red broke out into applause louder than the rest of the Hall. I looked to Michael who seemed bemused by what had transpired. I started to walk over to the Gryffindor table then, but not before bumping his shoulder as we passed one another. I sat down next to Hermione just as the applause died down and Michael sat onto the stool.

The had was on his head for just under half of a minute before it shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

The table of blue and bronze took their turn to clap very hard, especially the girls. Overall the Ravenclaws seemed excited that they had gotten one of the new kids. Our eyes met again and I tried to telepathically send him my congratulations.

I took the time while the last of the First Years were being sorted to really take in my surrounding. The table before us was decorated with empty plates and goblets. They gleamed like liquid gold in the candlelight, causing a golden shimmer to dance across the walls. I looked to the front of the hall where, behind the Sorting Hat, sat a row of professors. They were of varying heights and sizes with Hagrid definitely being the largest. Most were watching the Sorting intently while a few others looked elsewhere, bored. Finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ('HUFFLEPUFF!'), the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and stool and carried them away.

"About time," said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his plate.

A tall man who sat at the middle of the teacher's table stood, his silver hair and beard swaying slightly. He looked at his pupils through his half-moon spectacles and broke out into a smile, his arms opened wide in welcome. It took me a moment, but I recognized him to be Albus Dumbledore. I had at least five of his Chocolate Frog cards.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told us, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes magically filled before our eyes.

Before I started eating, I watched as my fellow students started to heap food onto their plates. This was where I was going to spend the next four years of my life if it all worked out in my favour. These were going to be the people that I was to live amongst day and night for all but two months of the year. They were also the same people I was supposed to bond with and start friendships that would last a lifetime. I wanted to join in so badly, just let go and  _be_  one of them. But who knew where I'd be next year?

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said a ghost in a doublet large with a large ruff. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

"Why, Wha' 'appened?" Harry asked through a sizable chunk of steak.

"Peeves, of course," said the ghost, shaking his head, which wobbled. He pulled his ruff a little higher on his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast – well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council – the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance – but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," Ron said darkly. "So, what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh, the usual," he said, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves our of their wits—"

_Clang_.

Hermione had knocked over her goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen with a dull orange, but Hermione paid no attention.

"There are house-elves here?" she said, horror-struck. "Here at Hogwarts?"

"Certainly," the ghost replied, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" Hermione said.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they? They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning, see to the fires and so on…I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

Hermione stared at him. "But they get paid?" she asked. "They get holidays, don't they? And – and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

The ghost chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck. I turned away and grimaced, only looking back when my face at relaxed.

"Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," Ron said while accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding, "Oops – sorry, 'Arry—" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labor," Hermione said, breathing hard through her nose. "that's what made this dinner. Slave labor."

She refused to hear anymore. Soon after the ghost drifted away, I started piling food onto my own plate, suddenly realizing how hungry I was. Hermione looked at me as I ladled the things I recognized but said nothing. When we had all finished, our plates were cleared and dessert was served. Puddings, cakes, and other treats lined the table but Hermione continued to refuse food even though Ron was trying his hardest to tempt her.

"Are they always like this?" I asked Harry as he handed me some sticky toffee pudding.

"You'll get used to it." He said with a smile. "Sometimes, it's like having a telly at school."

I looked back at the bickering duo and realised that he was right. I laughed and took the offered pudding with a, "Thank you."

Harry beamed and I noticed a slight pink tinge to his cheeks as he pushed some of his hair out of his eyes. Behind his round glasses, his eyes twinkled with delight before he turned back to look at his best friends.

When the puddings too had been consumed, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter that filled the Great Hall ceased almost at once so that only the howling wind and pounding rain outside could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we're all fed and watered –"

"Hmph!" Hermione grunted, crossing her arms.

"—I must once ask for your attention while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden in the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filches office if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below the third year. I would also like for all of us to welcome our two new Fourth Year students who will be attending Hogwarts henceforth. Hazel, Michael, will you please stand?"

There was another round of applause but it was quieter than the Sorting Ceremony's. It was more to be polite than anything else. I tried to smile but it felt more like a scowl. I heard a loud chuckle and found Cedric laughing once again. Michael and I sat down as the applause finished and the focus went back to Professor Dumbledore.

"On a sad note, it is my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry gasped. He looked at the Weasley twins. They were mouth soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak.

Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy – but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts—"

But at that moment, there was a deafening crack of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the man, suddenly brightly illuminated by a form of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table. A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the long table, turned right, and limped heavily towards Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped.

It was a face that could only be described as one of nightmares. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who only had the vaguest idea of what human faces ware supposed to look like and none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal dash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made his frightening. One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a marble, and vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye – and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see the whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark grey hair out of his face and pulled a plate of sausages toward him. He raised it to what was left of his nose and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his picket, speared a sausage at the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausage, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore said brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

No one applauded but Hagrid and Dumbledore. The rest of the Hall remained quiet.

"Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to him" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long swig from it.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of student before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not even been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred (George?) Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Fall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, myself included, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar…"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er – but maybe this is not the time…no…" said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament…well, some of you will not know what this tournament involved, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities – until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued disregarding the chatter, "none of which have been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have word hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing themselves as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, I could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the hall quieted once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age – that is to say, seventeen years or older – will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This –" Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious "—is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion."

His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I, therefore, bid you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. Their delegation from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Everyone stood up from their seats and waited for their turn to exit the Hall. I searched the crowd for my brother and found him about twenty people away. I pushed past some students who didn't even really notice and hugged him from behind as soon as I got close. "Congratulations."

He turned and hugged me back, "Same to you. I guess I'm the first Ravenclaw in the family since Uncle Grégoire."

"Hat tell you that?" We stepped a few feet forward.

"Yeah, did he tell you anything?"

"He said that Mum and Dad were in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor."

We'd reached the threshold of the Hall and looked at each other. A group of his fellow Ravenclaws waited for him just outside the doors. "I guess this is where we part." He said.

"I guess. Well, here's hoping we have classes together."

We hugged once more before he went off. I began to scan the remainder of the people in the Great Hall to find Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Looking for me?" A voice to my left asked.

Before I could fully face him, I already knew who had spoken.

"No." I said, looking straight into Cedric's grey eyes. "I'm looking for some Gryffindors. Have to find my dorm, you know."

I peered at the crowd and peeped Hermione's bushy hair.

"I could show you." Cedric suggested, putting his hands into his pockets and smiling sweetly.

"Yeah, I'd trust  _you_  to show me where my dorms are. From the looks of it," I glanced at his tie, "you're in Hufflepuff. What would you know about the Gryffindor dorms?"

"I was thinking we could learn together," he laughed, his eyes twinkling.

I rolled eyes and sighed, "Look, I see Hermione, gotta go!"

I waved and sped away towards Hermione. I didn't dare to look back at him. When I fell into stride with Hermione, I allowed myself one little peek at Cedric. I turned my head to find that he was still watching me, and his face broke into a large smile when he realized that I'd looked back.

"Where'd you go?" Ron asked, trying to button the top of his school trousers.

"Said goodnight to my brother," I answered and it was mostly true.

"I'm really happy you're in Gryffindor," Harry stated abruptly.

"Why's that?" I asked.

"I dunno," he shrugged and looked down at his feet.

Fred and George bounded towards us, debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" Harry asked.

"Dunno," said Fred, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple drops of Aging Potion might do it, George…"

"Dumbledore know you're not of age, though," Ron said.

"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us from giving our names."

"People have died, though!" Hermione said in the worried voice as we walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.

"Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"

"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older. Dunno if we've learned enough…"

"I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George.

"I expect my gran'd want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. I'll just have to – oops…"

Neville's foot had sunk halfway up the staircase. My eyes widen at the sight but Hermione assured me in my ear that Hogwarts had a load of these tricks and that I'd just have to remember where they all were. Harry and Ron seized Neville under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armor at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily.

"Shut it, you," said Ron, banging down its visor as they passed. We made our way up to an entrance that Hermione explained was Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said as we approached.

"Balderdash," said George, "a Prefect downstairs told me."

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which we all climbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for those who have been reading! I really appreciate it and hope you continue to follow my story.


	6. One Eye Open

The room we entered was filled with noise and all the hustle and bustle you'd expect from the first night back. It was obvious that everyone had known each other for years and their laughs told tales of old inside jokes.

I was suddenly overwhelmed with an emotion that was hard for me to place. It felt somewhere between lost and uncertain. I'd never felt that way before. Suddenly, thoughts like "would I be able to fit in here?" and "what am I doing?" overtook me. I could feel myself start to plummet into the recesses of my mind when -

"Hazel...Hazel!" A voiced called.

I tore my eyes away from the walls to search for the person calling my name.

"Hazel!"

I finally found the source, it was Hermione, who had somehow made it all the way across the common room. She stood with Ron and Harry next to a flight of stairs that I could only assume led towards the dormitories. I weaved my way through the throng of people, receiving an odd stare here and there.

"Isn't that the new girl?" An older boy said to his group of friends as they sat around the hearth. They collectively turned their heads towards me, subtlety obviously not being one of their strong suits.

Before I could stop myself, I paused in my stride and stared at the boy who'd spoken. "I am. Hazel, Hazel Masterson."

I stepped closer to him and extended my hand. "Pleasure, I'm sure."

For a moment, he stared at my hand dumbfounded before he grabbing it awkwardly and shaking it for one pump. "Jason Fletcher?" he said with an odd inflection at the end of his name.

"Are you Jason Fletcher, or aren't you?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I am."

"Alright. Well, I better be off now…but in the future, if you're going to talk about me, please use my name. It's not 'new girl', it's Hazel. Professor McGonagall said it pretty loudly in the Hall."

Without waiting for his response, I turned on my heel and walked the last few steps to the stairs.

"Hey guys," I said, fixing a small smile on my face.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked, his eyes wide.

"Ronald!" Hermione chided.

"It's fine, Hermione," I said as I folded my hands together, "It's just that my whole life I've always been the new girl and a lot of the time, that's all anyone ever calls me. My name is  _Hazel_ , not 'New Girl'. Same number of syllables and even prettier to boot."

"Oh, well, I get it." Ron said as he looked down in slight embarrassment.

"Sorry, Ron, I'm not irritated or anything. It's just that I'm also trying to exert my dominance on them." I smiled genuinely. "I'm like a large, mad dog, I must pee on everything and bark at strangers.  _Ruff!_ "

The three of them laughed and I felt tension that I hadn't realised I held, release.

"Anyway," Hermione grabbed my forearm, "I think it's time that we all head to bed. Tomorrow's the first day and I want to wake up early to go to the library."

"Hermione! We haven't had any classes yet!" Ron exclaimed, a horrified look on his face. Even in the lighting of the common room, I could see his freckles gather together as he scrunched his nose.

"Never mind, I have something I'd like to research. And anyway, I don't have to explain myself to you." She scowled at him. "Good night,  _Ronald_."

Her face relaxed as she faced her other friend. "Night, Harry."

"Night, Hermione," Harry replied, a small, amused smile playing on his lips.

She turned and bounded up the stairs, completely forgetting that she was probably going to show me where to go. Ron followed suit with his eyebrows creased in annoyance as he mumbled a, "Night, Hazel," to me and headed towards the other staircase on the opposite wall.

Harry smiled at me and shook his head. "I'm sorry about them. They've always been like this."

I chuckled lightly, "Don't worry about it. I'd call it some sort of sibling rivalry if I didn't feel like they both sort of fancy each other."

"Yes!" he shouted loud enough for some people to turn their heads. Seeing that there wasn't anything interesting in our corner, they grew disinterested and carried on with their discussions.

"I'm not the only one who sees it, right?" Harry continued.

"Not at all, Mr. Potter. I mean, but what do I know. I've only known them for a total of two days…buuuuut I still think they bicker a little too much for there not to be something."

Harry shook his head, "No, you've got them pegged. Neither one of them have said anything to me so we may both be wrong, but I'd like to think we're a little smarter than that."

I allowed myself a small smile in response, the praise sending a warm but pleasant shiver throughout my body. "Now, I don't know about  _you_  being smart," I said, my small smile turning into a larger one, "but  _I_  am, and I'm almost never wrong."

"Oh really?" Harry raised an eyebrow, " _Never_  wrong. Hmm, I might make a point to test that theory."

I crossed my arms in front of my chest and smirked, "I'd like to see you try, Potter. Remember, I'm pretty observant."

He smiled in return and said, "Alright, challenge accepted. But also, if memory serves, you didn't even notice when your wand  _fell_  out of your pocket."

"You very well know that you stole it, jerk." I said, hoping that my tone was light enough for him to realize I was teasing.

"Tomato, tomahto," Harry said, smiling as he shrugged his shoulders.

We stared at each other for a moment, waiting for the other to say something, to continue our conversation, maybe do a jig. The silence between us wasn't awkward but filled with a tension I couldn't quite describe. Much like in the Top Box, I maintained eye contact with him and waited for him to look away, but this time, he didn't.

"I guess I should probably head upstairs…" I said, willing him to…I don't know…

"I guess." Harry ran a hand through his dark hair and somehow made it more tousled than it already was. "I would show you where to go," he mused, "but the girls' stairs turn into a slide when a boy tries to climb it."

"Really?!" I asked. "Does the boys' do the same?"

"No, you lot can come up whenever you'd like."

"Oh really?" I contemplated. "Good information to know."

"Oh God, I'm afraid to even think about it."

"You should be," I closed one of my eyes, "Just keep one eye open, Harry. Maybe then, you'll see me coming."

"I'll make sure to keep an eye on you at all times." He replied, closing one of his own eyes.

I suddenly realised the possible interpretations of my statement and flushed a light pink. Harry, apparently coming to his own realisation, flushed a deeper pink than mine.

"Uh, um, good night." I said willing myself to look at him.

"Er, good night." He said meeting my eyes.

I opened my mouth about to say goodnight once more but the words fell away when I found myself enveloped in a warm embrace. I was surprised to say the least but found myself wrapping my arms around Harry in return. He felt sturdy, secure. It wasn't the first time we had hugged, but this hug felt more personal than the other. After a few beats, I pulled back.

"S-sorry, dunno if that was okay with you. I just…I don't know." Harry stammered, running his hand through his hair once again. "Sorry, again."

"Nothing to be sorry about," I said, tugging the sleeves of my white button down to cover my palms. "Um, good night again."

"Night." He said, as he turned away and followed the path Ron had taken.

I watched him leave, willing myself to keep my mouth closed, but in the end, I yelled, "Remember! One eye open!"

Harry turned around and looked at me with genuine confusion before comprehension dawned on his face and he broke out into a grin that made me catch my breath. His green eyes shone through his glasses, even in the dimmed lighting of the common room. My body felt like it had been shocked by a lightning bolt.

"Do you have a preference?" He asked over the chatter of our Housemates.

"Surprise me." I replied with a wink.

" _Where is this all coming from?_ " I thought, mentally slapping myself.

With one last look and shake of his head, he bounded up the stairs, and out of sight.

"Hazel, keep your fat mouth shut! You sound like an idiot!" I mumbled to myself.

I took a deep breath and sighed, climbing up the stairs I'd seen Hermione climb. Upon reaching the landing I found myself before another flight of stairs, this one a spiral, with doors lining it all the way up. Without so much as a second thought, I began to ascend, pausing when I'd pass a door so I could read the names that were engraved on small, golden nameplates. I climbed and climbed until found one near the top of the tower that read, " _Lavender Brown, Fay Dunbar, Hermione Granger, Hazel Masterson, Pavarti Patil_ ".

I brought my hand up to knock but quickly put it back down. As of tonight, this had also become my room, so I reached for the knob and opened the door. Inside were five, four-poster beds adorned with deep scarlet beddings and brilliant gold accents. Each bed in the somehow circular room had a large trunk in front of it and I found mine in front of the bed that was a straight shot from the door.

"No one wanted that bed First Year because in the morning the light from the windows on either side make it so that you can't sleep in…unless you remember to pull your curtains down the night before, of course." Hermione said and I turned to look at her. She sat on her bed directly to the right of mine with a cat sitting on her lap. "Ever since then, even though our beds aren't assigned, we've all left it empty."

She was already dressed in pyjamas of matching flannel. "Sorry for leaving you, Ron just exasperates me sometimes."

"Why does he infuriate you?" I asked nonchalantly as I opened my trunk.

"I-I…I don't know!" She exhaled loudly, "he just does. I mean, what does it matter to him that I want to get up early tomorrow? It's not like I'm asking him to go with me!"

I sifted through my trunk and pulled out the first pair of pyjamas I could find.

"Maybe you should." I offered as I undressed from my uniform and into more comfortable garments.

"What? What do you mean?" She asked, moving over to my bed.

"I mean," I said, sitting on top of my covers, "that maybe he feels left out. Maybe he'd like to spend time with you."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth repeatedly for a few seconds before she finally said, "Ron would rather clean Crookshank's litter box for the rest of the year than step foot into the library unless it was absolutely necessary."

"Crookshanks?"

"My cat," she pointed to her bed where she had left the cat she had been petting.

"Oh," I said. "I don't know then. Can't think of anything else…"

I shrugged and watched to see her reaction.

"I don't know, either. I'm sorry Hazel," she looked at me apologetically, "I didn't mean to make your first night so dramatic."

"It's alright Hermione," I smiled, remembering something from earlier, "It's like having a telly at school."

"I feel like I've heard that before…" she said, as she stood up. "Well, anyway, I better go to sleep. Good night, Hazel."

"Night, Hermione," I answered, tucking myself under my covers.

I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours before I heard our door open again. Through the dim lights, I could see the outline of a dark-haired girl as she walked over to the bed next to Hermione's. She moved very quietly and efficiently and was nearly finished getting ready for bed when the door opened again and two figures walked in. Their voices, though not all that loud, carried through our room loud enough that the girl shushed them and whispered, "Hey, they're sleeping already, lower your voices!"

The two girls seemed to be annoyed by her command but followed it all the same as they prepared for bed. I recognized the two girls immediately as some of the people I had seen in Diagon Alley. Was it at the ice cream shop? No, it was in the bookstore. Yes, the girls who had been squealing. Soon, all the noises ceased and I could only hear the light lifts and falls of breath from the girls around me.

My thoughts traveled around all the things that had happened in the past week. From the World Cup, the Incident (what I'd taken to calling it in my mind) with the man in the woods, my parents…Cedric…Harry. My cheeks warmed with the last two thoughts and I tried to block their names from my mind. Why were they there in the first place? I was so focused with my internal arguments that I didn't even notice when my eyes closed and I had fallen asleep.

* * *

The following morning, I awoke to bright lights attacking me from both sides. It felt as though my mind was on fire and I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep anymore. I opened my eyes found that half of my covers had fallen off the bed as well as one of my pillows.

"Somethings never change." I said, pushing what remained off of me.

Looking at a clock to the left, I saw that it was just about to turn seven in the morning. I turned and took a quick glance around the room. I was only the second person to have woken up. The three other girls who had arrived after me last night were all still in their beds, snoring away. Hermione was gone, God only knowing what time she had gotten up. I made my bed and grabbed one of the sets of uniforms Madam Malkin had made from my trunk and laid it on my bed. I reached in again and grabbed my bathrobe, toothbrush, and toothpaste as well. I remembered from the night before that I had passed a few signs that had read, " _Bathroom_ " and quietly trekked towards the door.

I found that the stairwell alive with sound as many girls, some uniformed, some in their bathrobes like me, ascending and descending the stairs. I made it to the nearest bathroom where I counted five showers, five stalls, and five corresponding sinks. Two showers were steaming, their mist swirling into the air. I quickly ambled towards one of the empty ones and undressed, taking my toothbrush and toothpaste with me. I did my business and by the time I had gotten back to my room, it was nearly half past seven.

The three other girls were up and getting their own things ready. The last two of my roommates who had arrived were chatting away, talking about how excited they were to see 'Professor Trelawney'. My other roommate smiled at me as I entered. I smiled back and walked towards her.

"Hi, we've yet to meet. I'm Hazel," I greeted.

"Hiya, I'm Fay."

"I love your hair," I said, gesturing to the chestnut waves that hung to her midback.

Fay smiled and her cheeks flushed with appreciation. "Thanks, I love your eyes."

"I'm sorry, I'll let you finish getting ready, I bet the bathrooms are crowded by now." I gave her a wave and walked over to my bed.

Right as I reached my bed, my two other roommates marched over.

"Hi, I'm Lavender," the girl with dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes offered.

"And I'm Pavarti," the girl with the plait added.

"I'm Hazel," I said as I played with the tie of my robe.

"Your brother's very handsome." Lavender said while Pavarti nodded enthusiastically next to her.

"Is he single?" Pavarti asked, her eyebrows raising.

"Uh, why don't you ask him yourself?" I said, turning and grabbing my white uniform shirt.

"Oh my God, we should," I heard them whisper from behind me, their voices already seemingly further away. Right as I removed my robe, I heard our door click as they entered the stairwell.

I was used to girls asking about Michael. He was charming, handsome, and smart, what more could you ask for? What I'd never get used to though were girls asking me how to "get" him.

_Blech!_

The thought sent a wave of disgust through my body as I finished putting on my uniform. I grabbed my bookbag from my trunk and made sure I had some parchment, quills, gloves, and ink before I returned to the stairwell and headed down to the common room. As I jogged down the steps, I tried to retrace the path to the Great Hall in my mind. I was pretty sure I'd be able to find it, if anything, I'd just follow some students and hope for the best.

Reaching the precipice of the stairs, I found Harry and Ron leaning on the wall next to it, talking but also half asleep.

"Morning boys," I chirped, surprised to see them there.

"Morning Hazel," they echoed.

"What are you guys doing lurking next to the girl's stairs? Needed that early morning rush?" I asked, remembering what Harry had said.

Ron winced at this, as if a bad memory had crossed his mind. "No, we were waiting for you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, we wanted to make sure you'd find the Hall okay," Harry explained as he fixed his glasses on his face.

My body warmed and I was overcome with appreciation. "Oh, thanks." I fixed my bag on my shoulders.

"Is Hermione still getting ready?" Ron asked.

"No, she left before I'd even woken up." I said, looking to Harry who was smirking.

"That woman is mad!" He exclaimed, getting off the wall. "Absolutely mad."

I followed as we walked down to the Great Hall. Ron was still going on about Hermione, gesticulating wildly. I tried my hardest not to laugh but when I made eye contact with Harry, a chortle slipped out. I quickly covered it with a cough but Harry snickered and caught Ron's attention.

"What're you laughing about, Harry?" Ron asked looking at his friend.

"Nothing, mate," Harry replied, controlling his emotions. "I just thought of that time last year when Hermione hit Malfoy."

"Oh yeah," Ron grinned at the memory. "That was brilliant."

We arrived at the Great Hall with only a quarter of the school already seated. The tables were lined with heaping plates of food with steam still rising off of them. Harry, Ron, and I sat down near Fred, George, and their friend, who were discussing methods of how to age themselves for the Triwizard Tournament.

I had just poured myself orange juice and loaded my plate with food when Hermione plopped down next to me, garnering the attention of the boys.

"Where have you been?" Ron queried, though I had a feeling he already knew.

"Library, if you must know Ron." Hermione began to grab her own plate of food.

"You're eating again, I notice," Ron said, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to her toast.

"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," Hermione said haughtily.

"Yeah…and you were hungry," Ron said, grinning.

Hermione opened her toast filled mouth to retort but was cut off by Professor McGonagall as she passed our seats and handed us our schedules. "Here you go, dears."

I took my parchment and scanned the list for today.

"Today's not bad…outside all morning," Ron stated as he ran his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures…damn it, we're still with the Slytherins… "

"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned, looking down.

"You should have given it up like me, shouldn't you?" said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some more toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."

I placed my schedule in my bag and began eating the eggs and sausages I'd put on my plate. Halfway through, there was a sudden rustling noise above us, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. Harry seemed as though he was expecting a letter but disappointment crept onto his face when he didn't find what he was looking for.

I finished my plate and looked around the Hall while my companions finished their own meals. I found my brother seated not that far from me at the next table. As if sensing my gaze, he turned to me and waved me over.

"Excuse me, I'm going to say hi to my brother, I'll be back." The three nodded their heads and I hopped over to Michael.

"Morning, shithead." I said, kissing the top of his head.

"Good morning, my sweet and loving sister." He replied, hugging me as I sat down. "These are my roommates, Terry, Anthony, Ewan, and this guy with a really cool name, Michael."

He gestured accordingly to the people around us who all smiled or waved.

"Hello, boys," I said with a wink, "Please, if my brother does anything embarrassing, please please please let me know."

They all laughed and said something in agreement.

"I'm holding you all to that." I said. "Anyway, gotta get back, classes are starting soon. What's your first class?"

"History of Magic," the boy who my brother had introduced as the other Michael said.

"Fun," I teased as I got up. "See you guys around."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood when I returned to the table and we walked out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall. We were just about to reach the main doors when we were stopped by Hermione stopped us and began talking to a Professor Vector with whom she had class later. As Ron, Harry, and I stood waiting for them to finish speaking, I found a familiar face in the crowd.

He had a Prefect's badge pinned to the front of his robes and was talking to a group of friends. He continued to listen to them and nod but I watched as he eyed me up and down, his mouth breaking into a smile when his eyes stopped at my tie.

"Excuse me," I heard him say as he started ambling towards me.

I went into a panic and I moved towards a crevice in the hall where I'd be somewhat hidden from prying eyes. I didn't know why I had suddenly moved, I was just about to talk to a friend, but I stayed where I was all the same.

"So, I take it you found your dormitory all right?" Cedric asked when he had reached my little hideout.

"No, actually, I spent the night in the forest." I pulled my jumper's sleeves over my hands. "It was wet and cold, but I made do."

"You should have said something. It's my job as Prefect to make sure you have everything you need."

"Really? I thought Prefects were glorified tattle-tales." I quipped, unable to prevent the smile that followed.

He chuckled and his whole body shook with his amusement. "You're not wrong."

"You always make me laugh, Hazel." Behind him, his friends called his name. "I've got to go but really, if you need anything, threaten to break my broom. She and I have a bond like no other, I'll know when she's in danger. Or maybe you could break a rule right now in front of me and I can give you detention." His eye gleamed dangerously, "I'll even go easy on you…unless you don't want me to."

I smacked him on the arm, "Cedric – actually I don't know your last name – but," I smacked him again, "Shame on you!"

"See you soon,  _Hazel_."

He went back to his friends and I saw that Hermione was just about to wrap up talking to Professor Vector. I quickly ran back to my spot next to Harry who looked at me and asked, "Where did you go off to?"

I tucked a loose strand of my dark brown hair behind my ear. "I said hi to some people I met at the World Cup," I said, willing myself to calm down.

He nodded and pulled at Hermione's robes, "'Mione, if we don't hurry, we're going to be late for Herbology. Professor Sprout might dock points."

Hermione's eyes widened and she offered a quick goodbye to her professor. She began to speed walk to class. We trailed behind her since the boys knew where the class was and had judged that we'd get there on time even if we walked. I noticed that Harry seemed preoccupied with his thoughts and it lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable patch until we arrived in front of "Greenhouse Three". He was soon taken out of his reverie when class began and Professor Sprout showed to the class the ugliest plants I had ever seen. They looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.

Some students turned green at the sight, and one Hufflepuff had to excuse himself to throw up. Professor Sprout paid them no mind and began to speak.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout gestured to the slugs. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus -"

"The what?" Seamus Finnigan said, sounding revolted.

"Pus, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

I stood between Ron and Harry as we placed pots containing bubotubers and empty bottles in front of us and set off to work. Squeezing the bubotubers was absolutely disgusting but oddly satisfying. I watched with curious horror as each swelling was popped and a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. We caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints. A weird part of me wanted to taste it. The smarter part of me prevented me from doing so.

"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," Professor Sprout said, adding a cork to the last bottle. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."

"Like poor Eloise Midgen," said a pretty Hufflepuff girl in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."

"Silly girl," Professor Sprout said, shaking her head. "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end."

A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signaling the end of the lesson, and we all separated; the Hufflepuffs climbed the stone steps for back to the school, and the rest of us headed in the other direction, down the sloping lawn toward a small wooden cabin which stood on the edge of the forest.

I recognized the professor as the very giant man from the night before, Hagrid. Hagrid was standing outside a hut with one hand on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet. As we drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached my ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

"Mornin'!" Hagrid said, grinning at us. "Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this - Blast-Ended Skrewts!"

"Come again?" Ron said.

Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

"Eurgh!" Lavender squealed, jumping backward.

I peered into the nearest crate and found what looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in a crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small  _phut_ , it would be propelled forward several inches.

"On'y jus' hatched," said Hagrid proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

"And why would we want to raise them?" said a cold voice.

The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Malfoy and his flunkies stood beside him like before.

Hagrid looked stumped at the question.

"I mean, what do they do?" Malfoy asked. "What is the point of them?"

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things - I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer - I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake - just try 'em out with a bit of each. "

"First pus and now this," muttered Seamus and honestly, I agreed.

We began to try to feed the creatures with the food Hagrid had provided.

"Ouch!" yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. "It got me."

Hagrid hurried over, looking anxious.

"Its end exploded!" Dean said angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," Hagrid said, nodding.

"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," Malfoy said as he stood with a disgusted look on his face. "Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?"

"Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful," Hermione snapped. "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?"

Malfoy simply huffed and turned back to his Housemates, muttering away.

"Well, at least the skrewts are small," Ron said as we made our way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.

"They are now," Hermione said in an exasperated voice, "but once Hagrid's found out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long."

"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?" Ron said, grinning slyly at her.

"You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up," Hermione said. "As a matter of fact, I think he's right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all."

We sat down at the Gryffindor table helped ourselves to the lamb chops and potatoes. Hermione began to eat so fast that Harry and Ron stared at her.

"Er - is this the new stand on elf rights?" Ron said, his head tilted to the side like a puppy. "You're going to make yourself puke instead?"

"No," Hermione said, with as much dignity as she could muster with her mouth bulging with sprouts. "I just want to get to the library. "

"What?" Ron said in disbelief. "Hermione – you've already been this morning!"

Hermione shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she hadn't eaten for days. Then she leapt to her feet, said, "See you at dinner!" and departed.

When the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons, Harry, Ron, and I set off for what Harry told me was North Tower where, at the top of a tightly spiraling staircase, a silver stepladder led to a circular trapdoor in the ceiling, and the room where our Divination apparently lived.

"Watch out for her," Harry whispered as we climbed up. "She's…melodramatic and annoying."

I was hit with the pungent smell of a sweet perfume that permeated throughout the whole classroom. The curtains were all closed in the circular room and was bathed in a dim reddish light cast by the many lamps which were all draped with scarves and shawls. Harry and Ron walked through the mass of occupied chintz chairs and poufs that cluttered the room and down at a table that had three poufs around it. From my frozen position in the back, they waved me over and patted the empty seat. I set my bag down and placed my arms and head on the table, the perfume of the class making me sleepy.

"Good day," said a misty voice from right behind Harry, making him, Ron, and I jump.

A very thin woman with enormous glasses that made her eyes appear far too large for her face, peered down at Harry with a tragic expression. She had a large number of beads, chains, and bangles upon her person.

"You are preoccupied, my dear," she said mournfully to Harry. "My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas… most difficult… I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass…and perhaps sooner than you think…"

I looked at Harry perplexed, having never heard a Divination teacher speak to a student like that before. Sure, my old professor had offered little bits and pieces of advice to her students, but never such terrible things.

Harry met my gaze and shrugged, "See what I mean?"

"My dears, it is time for us to consider the stars," the professor said when she'd reached the front of the class. "The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand the steps of the celestial dance. Human destiny may be deciphered by the planetary rays, which intermingle…"

I looked to Harry and found that his eyes had glazed over and his eyelids beginning to droop. In the background, I could hear Professor Trelawney still speaking but I was too distracted looking at every curve and peak of Harry's head. His dark mess of hair looked to be confused with what it was supposed to be. It was a mix of straight and wavy which just meant that it stuck up in every which way, but it suited him. He had a strong jaw and high cheekbones a Muggle model would kill for. My gaze fell onto his black, wire-rimmed glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose. Beneath them, I noticed that Harry had a slight smattering of pale freckles and if I could just trace them with a quill, I could probably draw a constellation or tw—

"Harry!" Ron muttered, breaking not only Harry, but also myself from our separate trances.

"What?" He replied, his emerald eyes clearing up.

I looked around, the whole class was staring at him. I watched as he straightened; he had been almost dozing off, lost in his thoughts.

"I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn," said Professor Trelawney, a faint note of resentment in her voice at the fact that he had obviously not been hanging on her words. My head whipped over to watch her.

"Born under - what, sorry?" Harry said.

"Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn!" Professor Trelawney said, sounding definitely irritated that he wasn't riveted by this news. "I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth…Your dark hair…your mean stature...tragic losses so young in life…I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in midwinter?"

"No," Harry said scowling, "I was born in July. "

Ron's eyes grew as big as saucers and he let out a chuckle he tried to hide as a cough. I tried to contain my own amusement at this teacher's incompetency and fared much better than Ron.

Half an hour later, each of us had been given a complicated circular chart were now attempting to fill in the position of the planets at our moment of birth. It was dull work, requiring much consultation of timetables and calculation of angles.

"I've got two Neptunes here," Harry said after a while, frowning down at his piece of parchment, "that can't be right, can it?"

"Aaaaah," Ron said, imitating Professor Trelawney's mystical whisper nearly perfectly, "when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born, Harry…"

Seamus and Dean, who were working nearby, sniggered loudly, though not loudly enough to mask the excited squeals from Lavender down in the front. "Oh Professor, look! I think I've got an unaspected planet! Oooh, which one's that, Professor?"

"It is Uranus, my dear," Professor Trelawney said, peering down at the chart.

"Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?" Ron said.

Unfortunately, Professor Trelawney heard him, and perhaps that's what made her give us so much homework at the end of the class.

"A detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements in the coming month will affect you, with reference to your personal chart," she snapped. "I want it ready to hand in next Monday, and no excuses!"

"Miserable old bat," Ron said bitterly as we joined the crowds descending the staircases back to the Great Hall and dinner. "That'll take all weekend, that will…"

"Lots of homework?" Hermione said brightly, appearing out of nowhere. "Professor Vector didn't give us any at all!"

"Well, bully for Professor Vector," Ron said moodily.

We reached the entrance hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner. We had just joined the end of the line when a loud voice rang out behind us.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"

We all turned. Malfoy standing there looking thoroughly pleased about something.

"What?" Ron said shortly.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" Malfoy said, brandishing a copy of the  _Daily Prophet_  and speaking very loudly so that everyone in the packed Entrance Hall could hear. "Listen to this!"


	7. Greasy

My body stiffened as confusion and anger took over. It was that Malfoy boy. He stood in the middle of the Entrance Hall, a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ , held between his spindly fingers. With an arched brow, he began to read,

> “’ _ **FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC**_
> 
> It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.’"

Malfoy looked up. "Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" he crowed.

Everyone in the Entrance Hall was listening now. Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish and read on about what had transpired the day we had come to Hogwarts. When he finished, a shit-eating grin crept onto his face. My hands balled into my fists at my side. I snuck a look at Ron who was as pink as one of the soft underbellies of the Blast-Ended Skrewts we had handled that morning. A wave of deeper anger bubbled inside of me. Who was this Malfoy and what right did he have to embarrass another person?

"And there's a picture, Weasley!" Malfoy said, flipping the paper over and holding it up. "A picture of your parents outside their house – if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him. I reached into my robes and placed my right hand on my wand and placed my left hand onto Ron’s shoulder.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," Harry said, grabbing Ron’s other shoulder. "C'mon, Ron…"

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" sneered Malfoy. "So, tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?" I slowly pulled my wand out of my robes. If he said one more thing, I didn’t know if I’d be able to hold back.

"You know your mother, Malfoy?" Harry said – we both strengthened our grip on Ron as he jerked forward – "that expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?" I smiled broadly at Harry but he didn’t notice.

Malfoy's pale face went slightly pink. "Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," Harry said, looking to me and we began to turn away.

_BANG!_

Several people screamed and I watched as a white bolt grazed the side of Harry’s face. I whipped around the same time he did and I flicked my wand, about to cast a spell but before I could mutter an incantation and before Harry even reached his wand, we heard a second loud _BANG_ , and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

The students in the hall spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing.

A silence blanketed the hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry – or at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.

"Did he get you?" Moody growled, his voice coarse.

"No," Harry said, "missed."

"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.

"Leave, what?" Harry said, bewildered and suddenly pink. I wanted to step in front of him but my body wouldn’t allow me to.

"Not you - him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It now occurred to me that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.

Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" Moody roared, pointing his wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, then bounced upward once more.

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do."

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.

"Never - do - that - again -" Moody said, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.

"Professor Moody!" said a shocked voice. Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Professor Moody said calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

"What – what are you doing?" Professor McGonagall said, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.

"Teaching," said Moody.

"Teach–, Moody, is that a student?" shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.

"Yep," Moody said matter-of-factly.

"No!" Professor McGonagall cried, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing. I swear I could see a tear in his eye.

Professor McGonagall proceeded to shriek at Professor Moody, at how inappropriate his actions were and how Professor Dumbledore surely said something about Transfiguration not being allowed as a punishment.

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," Moody said, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock -"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that, then," Moody said, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.

Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words " _my father_ " were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" Moody said quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. The silence that still covered the hall allowed us all to hear their conversation. "Well, I know your father of old, boy…You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son…you tell him that from me…Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," Malfoy said resentfully.

"Another old friend," growled Moody as he seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons.

Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.

"Don't talk to me," Ron said quietly to Harry, Hermione, and I as we sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened.

"Why not?" Hermione said in surprise as she poured us all pumpkin juice.

"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever," Ron said, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. "Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret. "

We all laughed, and Hermione began doling beef casserole onto each of our plates. I thanked her and offered the boys potatoes from a dish in between us. They both nodded and I noticed that Ron’s eyes were glazed over as he seemed to relive what had just occurred. Harry looked at his best friend and shook his head with a small smile. He turned and made eye contact with me. A curious look crossed his face and he opened his mouth as if to speak but was interrupted by Hermione.

"He could have really hurt Malfoy, though," she said through bites of food. "It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it -"

"Hermione!" Ron said furiously, his eyes snapping open again, "you're ruining the best moment of my life!" 

Hermione made an impatient noise and began to eat at top speed again.

"Don't tell me you're going back to the library this evening?" Harry said, watching her exasperatedly.

"Got to," Hermione said with her mouth full. "Loads to do."

"But you told us Professor Vector -"

"It's not schoolwork," she said. Within five minutes, she had cleared her plate and departed. The three of us watched in awe as she sprinted across the hall.

“That girl…” Ron said, taking a bit of his food. “I’ll never understand her.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ron,” Harry said before turning to me once more. “Back there, you looked like you were about to curse Malfoy.”

I blushed, remembering the rage that had overtaken me. I was reacting before my brain could process what I was about to do.

“I mean, I think I was.” I shrugged, poking my casserole with my fork.

“Why?” He and Ron asked simultaneously.

“For all you know, we used to bully him.” Harry said, sticking a chunk of a potato into his mouth.

“I mean, I’m not an idiot,” I said taking a sip from my goblet. “I can tell that _he’s_ the bully in all of this. What kind of git tries to embarrass someone in front of the whole school?” I shoved some of my hair behind my ears so that my hands were doing something instead of trembling under the table. Why was I nervous all of a sudden? “I’ve met your family, Ron. Well, not your mother, but I’ve met everyone else. They’re incredibly nice, even Fred and George with all their antics, and what Malfoy was saying wasn’t right at all. Before I could even think, I wanted to turn his arms and legs into pig’s hooves or something.”

The two boys broke into new rounds of laughter. Harry wiped away a tear and asked, “Do you even know how to do that?”

I shrugged, smiling, “No. But, wouldn’t it have been nice to see what would have happened?”

“What would have been nice?” Fred asked as he sat next to me. George flanked me, sitting on my other side. Their friend sat next to Harry and Ron, across the table.

“Hazel wanted to turn Malfoy into half git, half pig,” Ron said with a large smile.

“Would’ve liked to see that.” George said as a mischievous smile spread across his face.

“Agreed.” Fred said, grabbing some food.

Ron looked at his brothers expectantly, “Moody was amazing out there, wasn’t he?”

"Moody!" Fred said. "How cool is he?"

"Beyond cool," George said with a nod.

"Super cool," the twins' friend matched. "We had him this afternoon," he told Harry and Ron with a glance at me.

"What was it like?" Harry said eagerly, his green eyes shining.

Fred, George, and their friend exchanged looks full of meaning.

"Never had a lesson like it," Fred. said

"He knows, man," their friend said.

"Knows what?" Ron said, leaning forward, his tie landing on his food.

"Knows what it's like to be out there doing it," George said impressively.

"Doing what?" Harry said.

"Fighting the Dark Arts," Fred replied.

"He's seen it all," George said at the same time.

Ron dived into his bag for his schedule. It came out crumpled with a tear in the corner.

"We haven't got him till Thursday!" he said in a disappointed voice, crumpling the parchment and tossing it back in his bag.

* * *

 The following morning Harry and Ron were waiting by the stairs once again. Something in my chest warmed when I saw their faces still half-asleep at the foot of the stairs.

“Hey boys!” I greeted, jumping off the final step.

My sudden movement jolted them into an upright stance, their eyes suddenly wide.

“Blimey, Hazel!” Ron said as he adjusted his bag on his back.

“You just have to remember to keep one eye open around me.” I said, walking to the back of the Fat Lady’s portrait as the boys followed.

"Yeah, Ron,” Harry added, “I heard you need to keep one eye open around her. You never know when she might attack.” He caught up to me and matched my stride. I turned to smile at him only to catch him winking at me.

“Cheeky this morning, aren’t we?” I asked Harry as Ron reached us, his long legs working in his favor.

“I’ve got some more cheek if you’re up for it,” he replied, wiggling his eyebrows.

“What are you two even going on about?” Ron asked, confusion evident on his very freckled face.

“Nothing, your friend Harry is just acting a bit odd this morning.”

The morning passed without much incident. Lunch came and went and after, we had double potions. During class, Neville, who I decided to sit next to that day, melted six cauldrons in one class period. Our Potions teacher, Professor Snape, was particularly vindictive in his punishment seeing as Neville didn’t mean to melt any of the cauldrons. He barely batted an eye at me and didn’t even acknowledge my nearly perfect potion.

“It’s alright Neville,” I whispered as Professor Snape walked back to the front of the classroom. “As far as I can tell, he seems like a huge arsehole.”

Neville smiled meekly but quickly frowned again, nervously looking to the professor to see if he might have noticed the slight against him. I followed his line of sight and found Professor Snape awarding points to another student.

At the end of class, the professor announced to the class that Neville had detention. I could see looks of anger and annoyance coming from Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and I honestly felt the same. As far as I could tell, Neville did not have a malicious bone in his body and really, who would want to go through six cauldrons just for fun?

“ _Probably Fred and George._ ” I thought as I packed up my things.

We all walked together to the Great Hall and had dinner. Neville ate very quickly and dashed back to the dungeons to complete his detention. 

“Poor Neville,” Hermione said and little bits of her food flew out of her mouth. “Oops, sorry.” She said to the three of us before proceeding to inhale her meal. Before the rest of us could even finish our first goblets of juice, Hermione finished her food and gathered her things. She mumbled something about the library and sped off.

Harry, Ron, and I finished our meal at our leisure before making our way back to the common room. I was surprised while we were walking that the boys made sure to include me in their conversation, even going as far as giving me context for things that I wouldn’t necessarily know.

“So, if you never want to cross Moaning Myrtle, don’t use the girl’s bathroom on the second floor.” Harry stated.

“Thank you,” I said, partially wondering if he was pulling my leg.

As we continued walking, I tried to remember landmarks as we passed them. A painting of dancing faeries on the third floor, a statue of a hag on the fifth, a particularly large tapestry depicting the Four Founders on the sixth. Before I knew it, we had made it to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“ _Password_?” She slurred, trying to raise one of her thinly penciled eyebrows. Her cheeks were tinted a little redder than I had noticed in the past few days and…was she holding an empty wine bottle?

“ _Yorkshire Pudding_ ,” I answered.

“Come in.”

The common room was uncommonly sparse that night. I could only count about five other people in the common and two of them left after a few minutes. We settled into the hearth and worked on the essay Professor Snape had assigned early in the class period. Harry and Ron set out rolls of parchment and their writing materials but I took a moment to close my eyes and take in the warmth of the fire.

I’d never let my parents know it, but I didn’t completely hate being at Hogwarts. I couldn’t let them have the satisfaction of an “I told you so”. Though I don’t know where I stood with them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had taken to showing me around Hogwarts these past few days and I couldn't thank them enough. But I knew that once I was settled they’d go back to having their own thing. I continued to keep my eyes closed but started to fiddle with my fingers as I processed my thoughts.

“You all righ’?” I heard Ron ask.

I opened my eyes and found that both boys looking at me. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just warming up.”

“You sure?” Harry asked, “Your forehead started to crease, you looked deep in thought.”

“I’m sure, Harry.” I said, “Just a little full from dinner.”

Ron took my answer at face value and turned away but Harry continued to stare with a curious look in his bright green eyes. I maintained eye contact but started to bite at my lower lip. He cocked his head to the side and seemed to wait for me to say something but I refused to let any more out.

“Three ways to use an eye of newt effectively in a potion.” Ron suddenly said. Harry and I both jumped in surprise and look at the lanky ginger boy. “What a stupid thing to have to write a foot of parchment about!”

He turned his head and looked at us expectantly.

“I can think of about three places I’d put an eye of newt in Professor Snape. Up his greasy arse, for one.” I said, the words coming out before I could stop myself.

The boys’ eyes opened wide at me before they doubled over in laughter and I couldn’t help but laugh with them. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes and I was soon short of breath from laughing so much. I guess sometimes you can just be yourself instead of censoring everything you’re about to say.

“You. Are. Bloody. Brilliant.” Ron said through laboured breaths. I recovered first and smiled at Ron, warm from the compliment.

“Thank you.” I replied.

“Can you promise me you’ll say that to his face?” Harry asked as he fixed his glasses on his face, they had become askew from his movement. I watched as his eyes twinkled in the firelight.

“If he pisses me off again, I just might!” I said. Though I was never one to talk back to a teacher and I didn’t think I would start now. “But I am just kidding, you know that right? I don’t have a death wish. I don’t think my parents would want to have to collect my body from the dungeons covered in hair grease.”

Harry and Ron chuckled again.

“He’s just so mean! Did you see how he treated Neville earlier?” They nodded.

“And he didn’t even bother to look at my potion or say anything about it! I’ve got to say, it was nearly perfect.” I dramatically flipped my hair back, “I mean, I _am_ perfect.”

They snickered and Ron said, “Oh yeah, of course." 

“Getting a little bit big in the head, are we?” Harry challenged, his face still slightly pink from the laughter minutes before. It suited him.

“Not at all,” I countered. “Though, I did hear that they’re dedicating a whole wing in my honour.”

Harry was about to reply when Neville suddenly appeared through the portrait. He was in a state of nervous collapse and quickly plopped onto one of the couches.

“What happened?” Harry asked genuine concern etched in his face.

Neville opened and closed his mouth a few times before replying. “He had me disemboweling a barrel full of horned toads.” His whole body shuddered at the memory. His hair was disheveled but I noticed that he couldn’t fix it because there were remnants of his detention under his fingernails.

“That’s disgusting!” Ron exclaimed, anger spread across his face. I nodded furiously, agreeing with Ron’s statement. Neville, though, just shrugged as if used to this sort of thing.

“I think I know a spell that can help you get rid of that icky stuff,” I said, rising up and sitting next to him. “Would you like for me to teach it to you?”

“Yes, please,” Neville said as he timidly looked at me with his blue eyes.

I spent the next fifteen minutes working with Neville on cleaning his nails and making sure he could do the spell on his own. When we finished, he thanked me profusely and announced that he was going to bed.

"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" Ron said to Harry as Neville disappeared from view.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Moody."

They explained to me that it was common knowledge that Snape really wanted the Dark Arts job, and he had now failed to get it for the fourth year running. Snape had disliked all of their previous Dark Arts teachers and had shown it - but he seemed strangely wary of displaying overt animosity to Professor Moddy from what we’d seen. Whenever we saw the two of them together - at mealtimes, or when they passed in the corridors – it felt like Snape was avoiding Moody's eye, whether magical or normal.

"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad," Ron said, his eyes misting over, "and bounced him all around his dungeon…"

The three of us worked together to complete our essays even though they weren’t due until the following week.

“Look at us, regular Hermiones, aren’t we?” Ron said, shoving his work into his bag. He yawned and stretched his arms. “I’m going to bed.” He paused, “You coming, Harry?”

“Yeah, I’m just going to finish putting my things away, I’ll be right up.” Harry replied.

“G’night, Hazel.” Ron yawned again.

“Night, Ron.” I carefully rolled my parchment and tied some string around it. I could hear Ron’s footsteps retreating the same way Neville had gone.

“Hey, Hazel?” I looked up and met Harry’s eyes.

“Yeah, Harry?”

“I was just wondering,” He stopped, as if wondering if he should continue. “How are you liking being at Hogwarts?”

I tilted my head, thinking of how I should answer. Should I be honest and say that I was kind of liking it? Or should I lie and say it that my old school was better? “It’s definitely different from my old school.” I mused.

“But different good, or different bad?” He challenged, his brilliant eyes boring into my own.

My cheeks warmed as I said, “Different _good_.” It suddenly became hard to look him in the eyes.

He smiled brightly and threw his bag over his shoulder. “Interesting. Well, good night, Hazel. Maybe tonight will be the night you pay us boys a visit.”

I was embarrassed for a moment but quickly pushed the emotion down, “I’ll never tell.” I said with a wink. I pulled my own bag off the floor. With a wave goodbye, we went our separate ways to our rooms. The whole climb up though, I couldn’t help but think about why Harry had asked me that question. Why was he so curious?

* * *

All the Gryffindor Fourth Years – myself included – were looking forward to our first lesson with Professor Moody so much that we collectively arrived early on Thursday lunchtime and queued up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung. The only person missing was Hermione, who turned up just in time for the lesson.

"Been in the -"

"Library."  Harry finished her sentence for her. "C'mon, quick, or we won't get decent seats."

We hurried into four chairs right in front of the teacher's desk, took out our copies of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ , and waited, the class unusually quiet. Soon we heard Professor Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. I could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes as he passed.

"You can put those away," he growled, stomping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them. "

We quickly returned the books to our bags, Ron looking especially excited.

Professor Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as they answered.

"Right then," he said, when the last person had declared themselves present, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

There was a general murmur of assent. I refrained from answering.

"But you're behind - very behind - on dealing with curses," Moody said. "So, I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark -"

"What, aren't you staying?" Ron blurted out. 

Moody's magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled - the first time I had seen him do so. The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless good to know that he ever did anything as friendly as smile. Ron looked deeply relieved.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody said. "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago…Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore…One year, and then back to my quiet retirement."

He gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together.

"So –  straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms.” He rolled, his shoulders and looked each of us one by one with his magical eye. “Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently, Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head. Good to know.

"So…do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law? 

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, myself, Ron's, and Hermione's included. Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender.

"Er," Ron said tentatively, "my dad told me about one…Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"

"Ah, yes," said Moody appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."

I remembered something my parents had mentioned when Michael and I had been younger. They had worked for the Ministry after they left school. After Harry had defeated Voldemort, many of his former followers tried to say that they had been under the influence of the curse.

Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Ron recoiled slightly next to Harry.

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that we could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Imperio!"

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Everyone was laughing - everyone except Moody.

"Think it's funny, do you?" he growled, his blue eyes darkening. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter died away almost instantly.

"Total control," Moody said quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…"

Ron gave an involuntary shudder.

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," Moody said "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. _CONSTANT VIGILANCE_!" he barked, and everyone jumped.

Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Hermione's hand flew into the air again, as did mine, and Neville's. Neville looked surprised at his own daring.

"Yes?" Moody said, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Neville.

"There's one – the Cruciatus Curse," Neville said in a small but distinct voice.

Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes.

"Your name's Longbottom?" he said, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again.

Neville nodded nervously but Moody didn’t elaborate. Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

"The Cruciatus Curse," Moody announced, "needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea." He said, pointing his wand at the spider. "Engorgio!"

The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Seeming to abandon all pretense, Ron pushed his chair backward, as far away from Moody's desk as possible.

Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "Crucio!"

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, surely if it had been given one, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently—

"Stop it!" Hermione said so loudly that the whole class turned to her.

I looked at her and followed her gaze. She was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville, and I could see that Neville's hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified. My body jerked, almost as if it wanted to reach out to him.

Moody raised his wand from the creature. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.

"Reducio," Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.

"Pain," said Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse…That one was very popular once too. Right…anyone know any others?"

I looked around. From the looks on everyone's faces, it seemed like they were all wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. I rose my hand into the air a final time.

"Yes?" Moody said, looking at me.

"Avada Kedavra," I said, glancing furtively at Harry.

Several people who hadn’t bothered to look at me much since the first night, turned uneasily toward at me, Ron and Hermione included. Harry looked as well but seemed confused.

"Ah," said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. "Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra…the Killing Curse."

He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface.

Moody raised his wand, and my stomach clenched in anticipation. Was he really going to do it?

"Avada Kedavra!" Moody roared.

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air. Instantaneously, the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backward and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded toward him. I instinctively put my right hand on top of Harry’s left.

Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.

"Not nice," he said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me." 

I watched Harry’s face redden as Moody's eyes (both of them) looked into his own. He didn’t move out of my grip but just stared at the blank blackboard as though fascinated by it, but not really seeing it at all. The whole class stared intently, waiting for his reaction. 

In my whole life, I’d never thought that I’d see the Killing Curse be performed in front of me. My heart ached for Harry and how he had had to see the curse that took his parents from him. For the most part, my guess would be that many of classmates had family members that had perished during the war, but Harry had it worse than anyone else.

The class was silent as they waited for whatever was going to happen next. I continued to watch Harry and noticed his eyes glaze over as fell deep in thought. He still hadn’t budged and I wanted to wait until he’d come back to normal.

Suddenly, Moody started speaking again and it seemed to pull Harry from his reverie.

"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it – you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

"Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. _CONSTANT VIGILANCE_!" he roared, and the whole class jumped again.

"Now…those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills…copy this down."

Harry looked down at his left hand, as if just noticing my hold on it. He looked from it to my eyes and we held each other’s gaze for a moment. I searched his now darkened eyes, trying to figure out what was going on in that head of his. At the same time, we pulled our hands out of the grasp and grabbed our supplies. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. What had moved me to grab his hand? What was going on with me?

We spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang, but when Moody had dismissed us and we had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices - "Did you see it twitch?" "- and when he killed it - just like that!"

They were talking about the lesson. It had been a spectacle, for sure, but having seen Harry’s and Neville’s faces during the lecture, it hadn’t seemed as exciting as the rest of the class thought it was.

"Hurry up," Hermione said tensely to the three of us.

"Not the ruddy library again?" Ron asked.

"No," Hermione said curtly, pointing up a side passage. "Neville."

Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.

"Neville?" I said gently as we closed the distance between us.

Neville looked around. "Oh hello," he said, his voice much higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm – I'm starving, aren't you?"

"Neville, are you all right?" I asked as Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner – I mean lesson – what's for eating?"

I noticed as Ron gave Harry a startled look.

"Neville, what happened back there was –"

I stopped mid-question as I heard odd clunking noises get closer behind us. I turned to see Professor Moody limping toward us. All five of us fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than I had ever heard from him.

"It's all right, sonny," he said to Neville. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on…we can have a cup of tea…”

Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody. He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry.

"You all right, are you, Potter?"

"Yes," Harry said, almost defiantly. He straightened his posture and squared his shoulders.

Moody's blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harry. Then he said, "You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you've got to know. No point pretending…well…come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you."

Neville looked pleadingly at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I, but they didn't say anything, and I was too shocked. So Neville had no choice but to allow himself to be steered away, one of Moody's gnarled hands on his shoulder.

"What was that about?" Ron said, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.

"I don't know," Hermione replied, looking pensive.

"Some lesson, though, eh?" Ron posed to Harry as we set off for the Great Hall. "Fred and George were right, weren't they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just died, just snuffed it right –"

Annoyance bubbled within me and I poked Ron in the rib as Harry continued to look ahead, but his face contorted in pain. Ron noticed and fell suddenly silent at the look on Harry's face and no one spoke again until we reached the Great Hall.

“I suppose the three of us had better make a start on Professor Trelawney's predictions tonight,” Ron said between bites of turkey, “It’ll take hours.”

Hermione, true to what I had seen of her the past few days, ate furiously fast, and then left for the library again. The remaining three of us were walking back to Gryffindor Tower when Harry raised the subject of the Unforgivable Curses.

"Wouldn't Moody and Dumbledore be in trouble with the Ministry if they knew we'd seen the curses?" Harry asked as we approached the Fat Lady.

"Yeah, probably," Ron said. "But Dumbledore's always done things his way, hasn't he, and Moody's been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first and asks questions later – look at his dustbins. _Balderdash._ "

The Fat Lady swung forward to reveal the entrance hole, and we climbed into the Gryffindor common room, which was crowded and noisy.

"Shall we get our Divination stuff, then?" Harry asked.

"I s'pose," Ron groaned.

“Sure,” I adjusted my bookbag on my shoulder, “I’ll meet you guys back down here in a few.”

They murmured in agreement and I bounded up the stairs. I dropped my bag next to my bed and grabbed my textbook, my chart, some parchment, ink, and a quill from my side table.

I made it down before the boys and claimed an empty table near the fire. I flipped through the pages of the book and looked at random pictures I came across as I waited. Every once in a while, I would look over at the boys’ stairs until I finally saw Harry and Ron running down the steps with their copies of _Unfogging the Future_ in their arms. An hour later, we had made very little progress, unable to make heads or tails of anything. Our table was littered with bits of parchment bearing sums and symbols, and I was ready to throw my textbook into the fire.

"I haven't got a clue what this lot's supposed to mean," Harry said, staring down at a long list of calculations.

"You know," Ron said, and I smiled when I noticed that his hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, "I think it's back to the old Divination standby."

“Which is…” I asked as Harry’s face broke into the first grin I’d seen from him since the morning.

"What,” Harry said, his grin only growing wider, “make it up?”

"Yeah," Ron said, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write.

“Can’t she tell?” I asked, watching Ron’s hand fly across the parchment.

“Nope,” he replied, not looking up from his work. “Bloody woman can’t even tell a fortune!”

My eyes widened in shock, surely, she wouldn’t have been hired if she couldn’t do her job in some capacity. I said as much to Ron and Harry after the thought crossed my mind.

“Uh, you’d be surprised,” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders and running a hand through his dark hair. “We had Gilderoy Lockhart as our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor two years ago and he couldn’t even fight off a pixie.”

I opened my mouth to say something but stopped as Ron started to speak.

"Next Monday," he said as he scribbled, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter." He looked up at Harry. "You know her – just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up."

“She loves when we predict the worst. I think that she actually wants us to get hurt.” Ron said, turning to me.

"Right," Harry said, crumpling up his first attempt and lobbing it over the heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. It landed in the center of the flames and I watched it as it turned as black as Harry's hair. "Okay…on Monday, I will be in danger of – er – burns." 

"Yeah, you will be," I said grimly, "we're seeing the skrewts again on Monday. Nice shot by the way.”

Harry looked over to Ron who was still writing scribbling away before he turned to me and gave me a small smile. I did the same in return.

“Okay, Tuesday, I'll…erm…" Ron started.

"Lose a treasured possession," said Harry, who was flicking through _Unfogging the Future_ for ideas.

"Good one," said Ron, copying it down. "Because of, erm, Mercury. Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?"

"Yeah…cool…" said Harry, scribbling it down, "because, uh, Venus is in the twelfth house. Hazel, write that you’ll be in danger of being cut deeply by a knife in the Great Hall next week…because Pluto will be hidden from the stars."

“All right,” I said, writing it down. They knew Professor Trelawney better than I did and probably passed last year so who was I to contradict them? 

"And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worst in a fight.” Ron said aloud as he wrote.

"Aaah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I'll lose a bet." Harry muttered.

"Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight!" Ron laughed. Harry and I joined in his laughter.

"And I'll be the one you're fighting!" I said, raising my fists and pretending to punch him in the stomach.

We continued to make up predictions (which grew steadily more tragic) for another hour, while the common room around us slowly emptied as people went up to bed. Crookshanks wandered over to us, leapt lightly into an empty chair, watching us through hooded eyes.

I looked around the room, finishing slightly before Ron and Harry. Once I had gotten the ball rolling, the predictions came easily and I had written around thirty-five of them by the time I finished. Staring around the room, I saw Fred and George sitting together against the opposite wall, heads together, quills out, poring over a single piece of parchment. I thought it unusual for them to be so quiet, normally they were loud and the center of attention. There was something secretive about the way they were working on the piece of parchment, maybe they were still trying to find a way to enter the Triwizard Tournament.

I watched as George shook his head at Fred, scratched out something with his quill, and said, in a very quiet voice that nevertheless carried across the almost deserted room, "No – that sounds like we're accusing him. Got to be careful…"

Then George looked over and saw me watching them. I smiled but quickly turned away, finding Harry doing the same. He had been watching too. Shortly after that, the twins rolled up their parchment, said good night, and went off to bed.

Fred and George had been gone ten minutes or so when the portrait hole opened and Hermione climbed into the common room carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other. Crookshanks arched his back, purring.

"Hello," she said, "I've just finished!"

"So have I!" Ron said triumphantly, throwing down his quill and splattering the table with its ink.

Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically as Crookshanks curled up in her lap.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned. I laughed at him as I started to pack my things.

"You seem to be drowning twice," Hermione stated.

"Oh, am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."

"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" Hermione asked.

“I asked the same thing,” I said to Hermione.

"How dare you!" Ron said, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"It's just an expression," Ron said hastily.

Harry laid down his quill too, having just finished his predictions.

"What's in the box?" Harry asked, pointing at it.

"Funny you should ask," Hermione said, with a nasty look at Ron. She took off the lid and showed us the contents.

Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colors, but all bearing the same letters: S.P.E.W.

"Spew?" Harry said, picking up a badge and looking at it. I grabbed a red one and inspected it. "What's this about?"

"Not spew," Hermione said impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Never heard of it," Ron said.

"Well, of course you haven't," Hermione said briskly, "I've only just started it."

"Yeah?" Ron said in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"

"Well – if you three join – four," Hermione said.

"And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" Ron said.

I watched Hermione face turn magenta.

"S-P-E-W!" Hermione said hotly. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status – but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

She brandished the sheaf of parchment at us. I regarded the sheaf in awe, was this a common thing for Hermione to do? So much parchment…

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."

"Hermione - open your ears," Ron said loudly. I recoiled at the sudden sound. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"

"Our short-term aims," Hermione said, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."

"And how do we do all this?" Harry asked.

“And how will this all work?” I added. Harry looked over at me, seemingly happy to find that he wasn’t the only one confused.

"We start by recruiting members," said Hermione happily. "I thought two Sickles to join – that buys a badge – and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron – I've got you a collecting tin upstairs – and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting. Actually, Hazel has better handwriting, Hazel, can you be secretary? Harry, you’ll be vice president of operations."

“Uh, sure,” I said, grabbing a piece of parchment and Ron’s quill from the table.

There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at the three of us. I looked to each person and landed at Harry’s face. He sat looking torn between exasperation at Hermione and amusement at the look on Ron's face. The silence was broken, not by Ron, who in any case looked as though he was temporarily dumbstruck, but by a soft tap, tap on the window. Harry turned and looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl perched on the windowsill.

"Hedwig!" he shouted, and he launched himself out of his chair and across the room to pull open the window.

Hedwig flew inside, soared across the room, and landed on the table on top of Harry's predictions next to me.

"About time!" Harry said, hurrying after her.

"She's got an answer!" Ron said excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg.

Harry hastily untied it and sat down to read, whereupon Hedwig fluttered onto his knee, hooting softly.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

Harry looked up excitedly but then suddenly furrowed his brows and paused. He looked at me and bit his lip. “Uh…”

The other two, remembering my presence, also paused. The room was now silent, a slight tension in the air. The letter was private, I assumed.

“Er, um, Hazel,” Harry started, “Ah, um…”

“Oh no, I get it!” I passed Ron back his quill and grabbed my book, predictions, quill, and ink. “It’s private, I get that.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly as he looked at the rug beneath us, avoiding my gaze.

The curious person within me wanted to know what was in the letter but I knew that it was none of my business. If the roles were reversed, I’d want the same privacy.

“I’ll write down the minutes for S.P.E.W.,” that elicited a large grin from Hermione. “And then I’ll be going to sleep.”

“Sorry,” Harry said again.

“Harry, don’t worry yourself. Good night, Harry!” I looked to Ron. “Good night Ron!”

“Night, Hazel.” They replied in unison.

“I’ll see you upstairs, Hermione, if I’m still awake when you go up.”

“See you, Hazel.” She replied with an apologetic smile.

I stood and made my way to my dorm. When I entered, the other three girls were fast asleep so I quickly jotted down what had happened during our – meeting? – and quickly changed and slipped under the covers.

I thought back to what had just happened downstairs and bit the inside of my cheek. What was so secretive about that letter? Or was that just an excuse to get rid of me and have a moment of rest from my presence? I’ve been following them around for days and maybe this was their way of telling me I’m on my own now. But…I know deep down that I had no reason to believe that Harry, Ron, and Hermione wanted to exclude me. They had done nothing but be welcoming to me and they didn’t seem like people who would string someone along…I didn’t even notice that my eyes closed and sleep was about to overcome me as I was so lost in thought. The last thing I remember before drifting off was the sound of the door opening and closing softly.  


	8. Chocolate Frogs

The following morning, I awoke with the sun. Outside, the sky was a mix of pinks, oranges, and purple as the sun crested over the horizon. I shifted into a seated position and found my classmates still fast asleep, even Hermione. I wanted to wake her up to talk, but I couldn’t muster up the courage. It was better to just keep to myself anyway.

I quickly showered and dressed while the tower snored away. With my school bag in tow, I stepped out of the portrait hole and made my way to the fourth floor. The other day, Ron and Harry had mentioned that I could access the Owlery through the fourth-floor corridor.

It was odd to find the castle so quiet. The only sounds I could hear were the slight creaks of the moving staircases as they shifted into position. Everyone seemed to still be in their dorms, I thought, as I carefully tried to remember previous landmarks. Soon, I reached a tightly spiraling staircase, and I climbed and climbed until I reached a door. I tentatively opened it and discovered the battlements of the tower. It would have been a great sight to see if it weren’t covered in owl dung. From the top of the tower you could see the tops of the trees of the Forbidden Forest, the shimmer of the Great Lake, and from Hagrid's Hut, you could see white smoke coming from his small chimney.

As I stood there watching the Hogwarts grounds, it was then I started to hear the fluttering of wings and the gentle _hoo_ s of Hogwarts’ owls. I circled the battlement until I found an archway that led into a circular, high-ceilinged room filled with hundreds of owls. Dried hay crunched underneath my shoes as I tried to spy Hermes’ feathers. As I neared a glassless window, I saw a blur of brown heading down towards me.

Hermes landed gracefully on the ledge of the window, a soft _hoo_ as his way of greeting me. I smiled and ran my hand down his back and he nuzzled his head into my hands.

“I brought you treats,” I said, reaching into my bag, “I wanted to see if you’d want to hang out with me until I have to head down for breakfast.”

He gently nipped my finger before he began to scoop up treats into his beak one by one.

“It’s been weird, you know, being new here.” I started, leaning on the ledge next to him. The sun was getting higher in the sky now and I would bet a hundred Galleons that the school was beginning to wake up. “Well, you probably feel the same way, but I hope you’ve made friends by now.”

Hermes nibbled on another treat.

“I have some people that I’ve been tagging along with but I don’t know how much longer until they decide they’ve had enough of me and go back to just hanging around with each other. I’m not stupid, I’ve heard other classmates muttering that for the most part Harry, Ron, and Hermione –that’s their names– keep to themselves. I have Michael, but he’s got his own group now and I can’t be that needy sister.” I looked to Hermes and he looked back at me with his big, honey colored eyes. “There’s also a guy that I met at the World Cup who has offered to show me around, but that’s his job as a Prefect. It’s alright, though, I’ve got you. You’re the only person I trust saying these things to, I know you won’t judge me.”

Hermes hooted and shook his head.

“Alright, fine, but it’s not like you can really say anything back.”

He hooted again.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” I said, pulling out one more treat which he greedily nipped from my hand a little more forcefully than before.

“Ow, hey!” I smiled down at him, “I don’t know where you learned to be so feisty from—”

The sound of hay crunching stopped me mid-sentence. My body straightened and froze in place. _How did he find me here?_

My heart beat furiously in my chest as the memories came flooding back. Hermes noticed my change in demeanor and hopped to turn around. He let out a soft _hoo_ and flew away. The lack of screaming indicated to me that he hadn’t attacked the intruder. _Fat load of help you are_ , _Hermes_ , I thought as I slowly reached for my wand.

“Hazel?” The person called out.

Surely, the man from the forest didn’t know my name…

“Uh, Hazel, is that you?” The person called out again.

With a grip on my wand inside of my robes, I slowly turned around to face my fear.

A few feet away from the archway stood the perpetually disheveled Harry Potter. I let out a sigh of relief and released my grip on my wand. The familiar face allowed my heart to settle down, but only just a smidge. How long had he been standing there?

“Oh, hey, Harry,” I said trying to keep my voice even. I ran my hand through my damp hair as I took in his puzzled expression.

“Morning, Hazel,” he said, stepping a few paces forward. I involuntarily flinched in response. That only deepened the lines of confusion etched across his face. “Are you alright?”

“M-morning,” I replied. I closed my eyes for a few seconds and tried to calm myself. “Yeah, I’m fine. Was, uh, just surprised that someone else was in here.”

I searched his face to see if he would take my answer at face value. He closed the distance between us while shaking his head. “No, you don’t seem fine. You froze as though you were scared. I understand being surprised, but it was as though you were had just seen a ghost."

“I-I’m fine, Harry, I assure you,” I said, biting the inside of my cheek. I played with the ends of the straps of my schoolbag while Harry scrutinized me further.

“Are you here to send a letter?” I asked, “Or are you here to annoy your owl like I’ve been?”

Harry smiled at that and adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses. “A little bit of both, I guess.”

His gaze left me as he looked up and searched for the snowy owl from last night. He finally found it perched between a large barn owl and a tawny owl. He jogged to the owl and started to try and wake it up but it wasn’t having it. The white owl shuffled around its perch and would only show Harry its tail, refusing to look at him.

“Come on, Hedwig,” he said in a soothing tone. “Don’t be mad.”

I managed a small smile, amused that his owl refused to even look at him. “Who are you sending a letter to?” I asked.

Harry turned his head and shrugged, “Erm, family.”

“Oh, okay,” I said, unsure whether to believe him. “Ah, I think I’ll head down to the Great Hall.”

“Give me a few minutes, I’ll go down with you.” He said, turning back to his owl.

“No, I’ll give you time alone with Hedwig,” I said, “You’ll probably want to grovel in private.”

He chuckled softly, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, I think I’ll be able to arrive at the Great Hall in one piece.” I started to walk towards the archway. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

“See you,” he said, glancing my way before returning to coax his pet.

I speed walked my way back down, hoping to put some distance between Harry and myself. I hadn’t meant to react that way in front of him, and I was scared what questions he might ask if he caught up. I let myself pause for a few seconds when I left the fourth-floor corridor. I closed my eyes tightly and took a few deep breaths. I wasn’t ready to let Harry know why I had reacted that and I was uncertain if I would ever be.

I descended the rest of the stairs as I made my way to the Great Hall. There were students milling around the castle now, their laughter and conversations filling my ears. I tried to keep my mind clear as I jumped down the final few steps, hoping the smell of hot food would distract me. At the bottom of the stairs, I stepped to the side to quickly check that I had all I needed for classes that day. _Books, homework, extra parchment…_

“Got it!” I said, putting my bag back on and quickly turning in place and taking a step forward…and into someone.

“Oompf!” The person and I grunted in unison.

Luckily, they were hard bodied and sturdy or else we would have fallen forward.

“I’m so sorry!” I cried out, taking a step back.

“It’s alright,” the person replied, turning to look at me.

_Just my luck._

“Oh wait, Hazel?” Cedric raised an eyebrow.

“The one and only,” I replied. _Of all the people._

“Aw, missed me, didn’t you?” He said, leaning onto the banister of the Marble Staircase with an annoying smirk plastered on his smug little face.

“I don’t think I did, pretty much hit the mark, didn’t I?” I said with a little more bite than intended. Hopefully it wasn’t too obvious. 

“You should try out to be a Gryffindor chaser next year, you’re two for two now on your targets. First, it was Potter, and now, me.” He pointed a long finger towards his chest. 

I could feel a blush creeping onto my face, what did he mean Potter? Surely, he didn’t know about what had just happened upstairs…Oh, wait.

“You and I both know that what happened at the World Cup was an accident. And so was this!” 

“Is that so?” He drawled, his smirk growing. He leaned forward an inch, challenging me to continue. 

“You know what? I have breakfast to get to.” I stepped away from him before I did or said something impulsive. “I’ve heard some say that it’s the most important meal of the day.”

He straightened his posture and fixed his knapsack on his back. “Would you like me to guide you?” He asked, stepping forward. His grey eyes gleamed in amusement. 

“I don’t think I’ll get lost during the twenty metres walk to the Great Hall.”

“I couldn’t live with myself if you did.” He moved to stand right next to me. “Please, mademoiselle, let me at least walk with you.” 

“Ew!” I said in between laughs. “I’ll let you walk me if you promise not to call me ‘mademoiselle’ ever again.”

Cedric watched me and it looked as though he was contemplating his answer. I knew from his fake “thoughtful” expression that he was trying to annoy me. After nearly a minute passed, he slowly began to smirk again and said, “I promise I won’t call you that word anymore, _madame_.” 

I groaned and bumped my shoulder into his. “I can’t, with you.” I began to walk towards the open doorway of the Great Hall.

“I think you can, though,” Cedric replied as we walked in tandem. Out of the corner of my eye, I could sense him looking at but I refused to look and just kept walking. 

“Don’t you get tired of teasing me?” I asked when we stopped walking a metre into the hall.

The students who had already arrived were digging into their morning meals and chattering between bites. There were some students hurriedly completing assignments and consulting with their friends on the answers. I spotted my brother sitting not that far from I stood just beginning to eat. 

“I don’t.” Cedric replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s simply the most fun I’ve had in a while.” 

“Well, I guess I can’t deprive you of the only joy in your life.” I said with an exaggerated hair flip. With that, I began to walk away, only looking back when I reached my brother. 

Cedric hadn’t moved from where we had been and was still standing there, laughing and shaking his head at me. I tipped an imaginary hat at him before plopping down next to Michael. 

“Morning, little brother!” I greeted. “It’s me, your favorite sister.”

“Morning, older-by-three-minutes sister,” Michael smiled and side hugged me. I looked him over and noticed that his tie was slightly askew and reached to fix it. 

“Oh, I didn’t know Mum was here too.” He joked as I finished retying it. 

“Gross, Michael!” I gently shoved him. “Mum and I are nothing alike!” 

“Really? I beg to differ.” He raised a single brow.

“Here I was, wanting to spend time with my brother when he attacks me. 'Don't eat your brother in the womb,' they said. 'You'll have the _best_ best friend for life,' they said.” I rose from my seat. “I will not stand for this. I’m leaving.” 

“You’re already standing,” He pointed out as he forked some scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Not the point,” I said, grabbing my bag, “See you, ‘brother’. '

“You know I’m just pulling your leg,” He asked, setting his fork down. 

“So am I,” I replied with a kiss on his head. “See you in class later.” 

“See you.” 

As much as my brother could annoy me, it soothed me to know that he and I were in this together. Even though we were separated into different houses, just knowing that we were in the same place let me remember that no matter what, I’d always have an ally in this castle. It was hard for me that he didn’t know everything that I wanted to tell him but even twins had their secrets.  

* * *

A few weeks passed as I finally settled into the castle. I had set up a routine that gave me a structure I could rely on. After getting ready in the morning, Hermione and I would come down the stairs and would be greeted by the half-asleep duo of Ron and Harry. Once or twice Hermione and I finished earlier than the boys and waited at their respective stairs. I had every class with Harry and Ron so the three of us would always walk together. Hermione joined us for the classes we all had. They still included me in their banter and a month in, I was a part of new inside jokes. I ate meals with Harry, Ron, and Hermione for the most part but I made sure that my brother and I had a meal together every so often. At the end of the day, the four of us would grab a table in the common room and worked on our homework, which steadily increased as the weeks passed.

In mid-October, Professor Moody announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of us in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether we could resist its effects. A small bubble of anxiety sat in the pit of my stomach as Harry, Hermione, Ron, and I entered the classroom the following week. It expanded in size when Professor Moody clunked into the room two minutes after the bell rang. 

"But - but you said it's illegal, Professor," Hermione said uncertainly as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said - to use it against another human was -"

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," Moody said, his magical eye swiveling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. The bubble grew another inch. "If you'd rather learn the hard way - when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely - fine by me. You're excused. Off you go.”

He pointed one gnarled finger toward the door. Hermione went very pink and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave. I put what I hoped was a comforting hand onto her back as Harry and Ron grinned at each other. We knew Hermione would rather eat bubotuber pus than miss such an important lesson.

Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. I watched as, one by one, our classmates did the most extraordinary things under its influence. Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel. Neville performed a series of quite amazing gymnastics he would certainly not have been capable of regularly. No one was able to fight off the curse, and each of them recovered only when Moody had removed it.

"Potter," Moody growled, "you next."

I held my breath at that moment, anxious as to what Moody might make him do. Harry moved silently forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, " _Imperio_!"

I watched his normally clear green eyes glaze over and a relaxed expression took over his face.

He looked calmer than I had ever seen from him, as if all the weight that sat on his shoulders had disappeared.

“Jump onto the desk. Jump onto the desk.” Professor Moody commanded.

Harry bent his knees obediently, preparing to spring. The whole class waited on bated breath.

“Jump onto the desk.” Moody repeated, “Jump onto the desk.”

Was Harry going to be able to withstand the curse? He still seemed to have some control of his body. He hadn’t moved since bending his knees. His eyes were still cloudy but now appeared to have a little shine in them.

“Jump! NOW!”

Harry suddenly jerked violently. He had both jumped and tried to prevent himself from jumping - the result was that he'd smashed headlong into a desk knocking it over.

"Now, that's more like it!" growled Moody's voice, "Look at that, you lot. Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it! We'll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention - watch his eyes, that's where you see it - very good, Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you!

They proceeded to try the curse three more times. On the final attempt, Harry was able to completely resist the curse. 

“That’s more like it!” Moody shouted, “You see what Potter did? He _resisted_. You could all do to learn from him.” 

Harry was flushed scarlet from all the work he had to do, but I also think he was embarrassed to have been commended in front of everyone else.

He called Hermione next and had her imitate a cheetah. She ran around the room on all four while screeching at the rest of us. She wasn’t able to break the curse on her own so Professor Moody removed it. She returned to my side flushed with embarrassment.

Ron went next and was made to skip all around the room. He too was unable to fight the curse.

“Masterson.” Moody beckoned.

My insides were now consumed by the bubble of anxiety but I refused to show weakness. I hardened myself and stepped forward into the middle of the class. I could feel everyone looking at me but I stared into the Professor’s eyes.

“Alrighty, lassie,” He pointed his wand at the center of my chest. “ _Imperio_.”

It was the most wonderful feeling. I felt like I was floating on air, as every thought and worry in my head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. I could feel all the worry I had just seconds before disappear. I knew on some level that I was still in class with everyone watching.

And then I heard Moody's voice, echoing in some distant chamber of my vacant mind: _Cast Petrificus Totalus on Finnigan…Cast Petrificus Totalus on Finnigan_

My hand moved from my side and reached into the inner pocket of my school robes.

_Cast Petrificus Totalus on Finnigan…_

I-I don’t want to. He doesn’t deserve to be bound against his will.

_Cast Petrificus Totalus on Finnigan…_

I can’t. I refuse. Please don’t make me. I was dimly aware that I had loosened my grip on my wand.

_Cast Petrificus Totalus on Finnigan…_

I can’t do that to another person…not after—

_Cast it now!_

I pulled my wand out of my robes and based on where I remembered Seamus standing, pointed forward and said, “ _Petrificus Totalus_!”

I felt the spell leave me at that moment and I blinked a few times to regain my spacial awareness. In front of me was Seamus, frozen in place with a surprised look on his face. Within seconds though, he was able to move again and he wriggled his hands and feet to recover feeling in the limbs. Normally my Body-Binding Spells were much stronger than that.

“You fought lassie, but you didn’t fight hard enough.” He clunked forward, “Now go back to your spot.”

I nodded once and turned on my heel. I could feel my hands trembling and I quickly shoved them into my robes. My breath now came in short rapid bursts and I focused on trying to quiet them as to not attract attention. By the time I had returned to my spot next to Hermione and Harry, I had controlled them enough so that they were silent.

Those who hadn’t been called yet were beckoned one by one until we had all been cursed. Professor Moody allowed us all to leave class as soon as we were done even though we finished nearly ten minutes earlier than the bell.

"The way he talks," Harry muttered as we hobbled out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, "you'd think we were all going to be attacked any second. "

"Yeah, I know," Ron said, who was skipping on every alternate step. "Talk about paranoid…”

I tried my hardest to pay attention to the conversation around me but I was still replying the class over and over again. In the past month I had started to think about the World Cup less and less and now it was at the forefront of my mind. Why couldn’t I have fought it? Why did I have to be so useless? And…and having to cast that spell on someone else. It just wasn’t something I was ready for.

My hands were trembling again and I could feel my eyes start to water. 

“Excuse me,” I muttered as we passed the second floor. I needed to get away.

“Hazel, wait,” I heard Harry call as I entered the second-floor corridor. I closed the door behind me and walked a few feet down the corridor before leaning my back against the wall and closing my eyes.

I heard the door open and close.

“Hazel,” I heard his footsteps come closer. “What’s going on?”

I opened my eyes and found Harry standing a few feet in front of me with concern and worry etched all across his face.

“Harry, p-please,” I tried to steady my voice. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“You’d be surprised at how much I can understand,” Harry whispered, reaching out to put his hand on my arm.

I jerked away and looked him in the eyes, “No, Harry, you won’t understand this. I don’t even fucking fully understand it myself!”

He looked taken aback and stepped back. “But Hazel, I won’t just leave you here. You’re not okay.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be.” I slid down to the floor. “P-please. I-I’ll meet you all later.”

Harry kneeled down, reached into his bag, and pulled out a Chocolate Frog. “Here, at least have this.” He held it out towards me. “Someone once told me to, ‘Eat. You’ll feel better.’ And that’s what I’m telling you now. Eat. You’ll feel better.”

I looked him in the eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. “Thank you,” I whispered. I took the box into my hands. He gave me one last long look and left the corridor, leaving me alone.

I leaned my head against the hallway wall and tried to make sense of why I was so affected by it all. I had been doing so well and now I was cowering like I had that night. I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them tightly. The tears fell now and stained my dark robes an even deeper black.

My whole body shook as the tears fell and all the anger and confusion I’d been holding back poured out of me. Why couldn’t I just get over it?

I had always been a quiet crier so I could hear as the footsteps approached from where I sat. I quickly used the sleeves of my robes to pat my face dry. How could I forget that the library was down the corridor?

“Hazel?” 

I turned my head to find Cedric Diggory walking down the hallway, heading right towards me.

“Really?” I said, turning my face away and wiping away any residual tears. “Of all the people…” I muttered into my sleeve.

“Hazel, what’s going on?” He stopped right in front of me.

I hesitated to look up. I didn’t know what to say to him.

“Hazel?” He crouched down to meet my eyes.

I looked up and found him with his brows creased with concern and grey eyes frantically searching mine.

“What happened? What going on?” He asked in succession.

I contemplated what I was going to say. I looked down and my brown hair covered my face. “I’m just here to get alone time. You know how it is, you’re always around someone whether you’re in your dorm, the common room…you know.” I couldn’t bear to look him in the eye.

“Hazel, you and I both know that’s not the truth. You were crying.” He said softly.

“Cedric, what do you care? You barely know me.” I could feel a lump in my throat and I struggled to continue. “I’m nobody to you.” I closed my eyes again and took a deep breath.

I felt a hand touch my cheek and gently place some hair behind my ear. My skin burned from where he touched it. “Hey,” I felt the palm leave the side of my face and enclose my hand. His hands felt cool against my hot hands. “Don’t you dare say that.”

Why was Cedric even here? He should be in the Great Hall already, having dinner with everyone else.

“Hazel, please look at me.” I held my breath and lifted my head.

His face looked so sweet with concern exuding from every pore. “Please, tell me what’s going on.”

I couldn’t bring myself to speak so I just sat there staring at him. He looked around to see if anyone was coming and when he found that we were alone, he sat down on the ground facing me.

“It’s alright, Cedric,” I murmured, knowing that if I spoke any louder my voice might break.

“It’s not, just please, you don’t have to go through this alone.” He squeezed my hand. “I’m here.”

I looked from our hands, to his face, and back. What was there to hide from him anyway? He was there that night. “I-I’m scared,” I whispered.

“And it’s okay to be scared, Hazel.” He scooted from his seat in front of me to the wall next to me, not breaking our grip. He leaned his head against the wall, his thick, light brown hair flattening against the surface. “I’m scared all the time.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What do you even have to be afraid of?” I asked, my tone incredulous.

“I worry every day if I’m doing all I can to make sure that I do well when I finish school, for one.” He removed one hand from his clasp over mine and let the remaining one encompass it by itself. “My family does well, we’re not hungry or anything…but I want to take care of my parents as I get older. They’ve just done all they can for me my whole life and I want to give back. And then I afraid that I’m not living my life the way I should be. Everyone else in my year has been relishing in their free periods and I’m spending mine studying or doing hall duty.”

He had been facing forward while speaking up to that point, but then he turned and met my gaze. “I’m scared that after all of that, I’m not going to succeed. I’m scared that I’m not going to be able to protect all those that I care about. I’m scared of even more things…but this isn’t about me, it’s about you.”

Damn him, why did he have to be so sincere. His grey eyes were searching my face for any indication of what I was feeling.

“I feel stupid, I feel like I shouldn’t even care anymore.” I finally said, looking up at the ceiling.

“About what?” Cedric asked, squeezing my hand again.

“ _That night_.” I shivered involuntarily as the memory flashed through my mind.

_…Just how I like them, quiet._

_…Don’t worry, lassie, it’ll be over faster than you think._

“I keep thinking that he’ll be back for me. That somehow, he’s going to find me and…and…”

“Oh, Hazel,” He let go of my hand and placed his arm around my shoulders.

My first thought was to recoil from his hold and run away. But, as I felt the warmth of his arm radiate through the robes, something within me prevented me from doing so. It was as if just knowing that his presence was there made the worry within me just a smidge lighter. Like in this moment, I’d be okay.

“Hazel, there’s no way that would happen.” He said. I was still looking at the ceiling but I know that he was still watching me.

“But how do you know?” I asked as I nervously, wishing he’d look away.

“Well, first thing, Hogwarts is protected—”

“They said the same thing about the World Cup.”

“It’s not the same and you and I know it. There were way more people at the World Cup and lesser precautions. They made a point to keep Muggles out, they didn’t focus on much else. Here at Hogwarts, you can’t even Apparate in and out within school grounds.”

“Really?” I asked, turning to him.

“Truly.” Cedric replied, a small smile playing his lips. “And as for the second thing that lets me know you’re safe at Hogwarts is that _I’m_ here.”

I rolled my eyes while shaking my head. “You’re such an idiot,” I said with a grin.

The grin quickly left my face as the invading thought about that night resurfaced. “There’s also the fact that I can’t help but blame myself.”

“What do you mean? How are you at fault for what happened to you?”

“Why couldn’t I have just run rather than duck? That way I wouldn’t have been separated from the group and would have never been there by myself in the first place.”

“What you did was an automatic reaction to hearing an explosion. There’s nothing wrong with what you did at all. That bastard is the one who did something bad. Please, don’t blame yourself. Nothing good will come from that.” His forehead wrinkled with concern. “What brought this all on in the first place? Why is this all coming up now?”

“I-It’s just, today in Defense Against the Dark Arts, uh, Professor Moody had us try and break free from the Imperius Curse.” I said, the pain of the memory cause tears to well up in the corners my eyes.

He nodded. “He did the same with us a few weeks back. Did he make you do something inappropriate?” His grey eyes studied me with worry.

“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just, when I was under the curse…” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. “…he had me petrify someone.”

“Alright,” he said, “did that trigger something?”

“Yeah,” I push some hair back from my face, mustering the courage to finish. “I had to use the same spell that that... _man_ used on me. It took everything I had to not just run away in the middle of class. And I know that this won’t be the last time I come across the spell in my life, but it’s just so recent for me. I can’t get it out of my head. I feel so stupid for not being over it yet.”

I felt the hand that was wrapped around my shoulders start to rub my arm up and down. His touch felt comforting and genuine. I normally hated being consoled by others. Whenever I felt down, or something happened to me, or I needed to cry or vent, I wasn’t the type to run to someone to be comforted. I didn’t like to show my raw, vulnerable emotions to other people. I never wanted pity, nor did I want to be the recipient of forced consolation. In these moments, I’d run to the nearest quiet and empty space to let it all out. Most of the time, it was my bedroom closet. I’d sit there in the dark and cry, working out my emotions to myself. I didn’t want to be discovered either, in fear of the aforementioned pity. It was during those times that I perfected my silent sob. No matter how sad or helpless I felt, I wept silently with only my arms wrapped around myself for “comfort”.

“Hazel,” he said softly, “You are _so_ strong, please tell me that you know that. What happened to you was fucked up. Today was fucked up too. And I’m not going to sit here and say that I understand, cause it hasn’t happened to me. But please, don’t let that man ruin your life.”

“That’s the thing, Cedric, I don’t know how I’m going to get over it.”

“I think that the only way you’ll get over it is if you go out and do something amazing.” He smirked, “Knowing you, it’ll be easy.”

I chuckled, smacking his arm lightly, “You barely know me.”

“And I plan on changing that, if you’ll let me.” His smirk was now a full-blown grin.

“In your wildest dreams, Diggory,” I teased.

“How did you know?” He quipped.

“Ew, gross!” I said, faux-shuddering. “Disgusting.”

“What do you mean—” his eyes changed with realization, “Hazel, I didn’t mean—no I wasn’t implying that—ah, um—”

“Cedric, Cedric,” I coaxed, placing a hand up between us, “I was just kidding.”

His face relaxed but his cheeks were still pink with embarrassment. “I’ll need to keep an eye on you.” He said, shaking his head and laughing.

“You won’t be the first, and you probably won’t be the last.” I replied, shrugging.

The worry that had filled me just moments before was now lessened and I felt lighter than I had felt all day.

“I feel a little better now, like maybe I can tackle this...Thank you, for helping.”

“You’re welcome, Hazel. But I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

I rolled my eyes at him, “What, are you my knight in shining armor now?” I chuckled at the thought. I imagined him wearing one of the dusty suits of armor from the upstairs corridor while clunking and clanking all around the castle.

“I’m not kidding, Hazel. I promise you that as long as I’m here, I’ll do what I can to protect you.”

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, tinting them with a bright pink. “Surely, you’re exaggerating,” I said, looking him dead in his eyes.

He shook his head side to side, his light brown hair tousling with his movements. “I’m not.”

I immediately recoiled and scooted away from him. When I had looked up, I saw so much worry and concern in his eyes and I didn’t know what to do with it. What was he saying?

“Did I say something wrong?”

“N-no! I-I’m fine Cedric. Ah, I just realized, you should probably go down and have some dinner.” I looked down at my watch. “It’s nearly over, don’t want you going to bed hungry, right?” I could feel my chest tightening as the confusion I felt traveled all around my body and caused it to buzz.

“Are you sure that you’re alright?” He combed his hair back with his hand. “You jumped away from me.”

“I assure you, Diggory,” I said, trying to muster up the confidence that I normally had into my words.

“You need to come down to dinner too,” he said, continuing to sit where I had left him.

“I’m okay, I had a big lunch.” I said with a smile.

“Well, I’m not leaving here until you do.” Cedric crossed his arms.

Why is he so stubborn? “I’m fine!”

“That’s what you said earlier and you obviously weren’t.” He retorted.

“Fine. If I head down to dinner with you, will you drop it?” I asked, biting my inner cheek again.

“For now.” He said as he stood up. He groaned slightly, his muscles probably sore from sitting in one place for so long. When he was fully standing, he stretched his arms up into the air, causing a sliver of his stomach to be exposed as his shirt became untucked.

I turned away, suddenly shy. I had exposed a piece of me tonight, something that I don’t normally do. And Cedric had shared a part of himself as well…both figuratively and literally. I turned back and saw that he that he had put on his bag again and mine was dangling from his hand.

He walked forward and extended the empty one to me. I stared at for a few seconds, considering whether or not to take it. Before I could overthink anything, I shut my eyes and grabbed on with both hands. He easily lifted me up into a standing position, his strength evident.

I made to grab my bag from him but he shook his head. “No, I’ll carry it for you. It’s heavy and you need to relax.”

“I can handle carrying my school bag Cedric,” I whined, hoping I’d annoy him into handing it over.

“No can do, I’m afraid,” Cedric said as he started to walk to the door. He opened it and stood at the precipice, watching me expectantly.

The thought of my dashing to grab my bag and then running crossed my mind, but I suddenly found that my body was exhausted and I probably wouldn’t get too far before Cedric would catch up to me.

With a deep breath, I headed to the door. Once back to the stairways of Hogwarts, I could hear the sounds of the Great Hall, the clanking and conversation a pleasant buzz to my ears. Anything to take my mind off of Cedric and his confusing kindness towards me.

In the past month and a half, he and I would speak when we came across each other in the hallways but it was never more than a few quips towards one another with trivial flirting. Was he just a very kind person? I shrugged to myself as we descended the Marble Staircase. In all fairness, every encounter that I had had with him up to that point he had always been amiable. I had even watched him in passing with others where he was nothing but good-natured.

We stopped just before the entrance to the Great Hall where I could see students in the middle of their supper. He looked down at me and quietly offered me my bag. I received it gratefully, swiftly putting it on before saying anything.

“Um,” I tugged the sleeves of my robes. “Thank you. For everything.”

He smiled down at me, his grey eyes brightened from the gratitude I’d given. “You’re welcome, Hazel.”

Cedric took a step towards me as he searched my eyes for a moment, seemingly looking for something. After a moment, he shrugged and reached towards my face. My eyes widened, wondering what he was about to do. I followed the movement of his right hand as it got closer and closer to my face. It just barely touched my cheek before it clutched a small chunk of my hair and tenderly placed it behind my ear.

Without another word, he turned around and entered the Great Hall, leaving me breathless and confused in his wake. I shook my head, copying the Muggle toy, Etch-A-Sketch, and erasing my thoughts from my mind (or at least moving them to the wayside for the time being).

I waited a minute before entering the Great Hall and sitting next to Ron. Across from his sat Harry and Hermione who were arguing about something I couldn’t make out.

“Hey,” I said as I sat down.

“Oh hi, Hazel!” Ron said with a surprised look in his eyes.

The two across the table turned our way. Harry’s face immediately became one of concern while Hermione’s was one of questioning.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, running a hand through his dark hair.

I looked down at the empty plate in front of and considered what to say. To tell them the truth would be long and tiring but lying didn’t feel right either. Not with the fretful look he had in his eyes.

I looked up. “I’m better.” I said, spotting a beef stew and ladling some into a bowl. I wasn’t particularly hungry, but I knew I needed to ingest something.

I brought a spoonful of the soup to my lips and looked at him again. He was still watching me between bites so I tried giving him a smile to show him that I was doing just fine. Much to my embarrassment, but to his amusement, I dribbled some of the stew down my chin.

“I’m such an idiot!” I said as I wiped my chin with a napkin.

Harry’s eyes were glistening with tears and he was holding his belly because he was laughing so hard. Ron and Hermione hadn’t seen it happen but were bemused by Harry's reaction.

Dinner ended soon after and we were all dismissed to go back to our dorms. The four of us waited to exit as the mass of students meandered their way out of the hall. Ron and Hermione were arguing about something trivial again so I walked a little behind them. It was partly to give them privacy,  but also partly to watch.

Harry fell into step with me and stood by my side as we waited our turn to leave the hall.

“Did you eat the Chocolate Frog?” He asked watching me carefully.

I offered a small smile, “No, not yet.” I patted the exterior of my leather bag, “I’m planning on eating it later. A little treat before bed.”

I had forgotten about his gift from earlier but now my body warmed with the reminder of the sweet treat.

* * *

All the fourth years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work we were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall explained why when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had assigned.

"You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!" she told us, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. "Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer -"

"We don't take O.W.L.s til fifth year!" Dean said indignantly.

"Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Granger remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!"

Hermione, who had turned rather pink, seemed to be trying not to look too pleased with herself.

Harry, Ron, and I were deeply amused when Professor Trelawney told us that we had received top marks for our homework in our next Divination class. She read out large portions of the predictions, commending us for the unflinching acceptance of the horrors in store - but I know I was less amused when she asked us to do the same thing for the month after next. What other tragedies were there to write?

Meanwhile Professor Binns, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had us writing weekly essays on the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century. Professor Snape was forcing us to research antidotes. I for one wanted to take this seriously as he had hinted that he might be poisoning a few of us before Christmas to see if their antidote would work. Professor Flitwick had us reading three extra books in preparation for the lesson on Summoning Charms.

Even Hagrid was adding to the workload. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable pace given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate. Hagrid was delighted, and as part of our "project," suggested that we come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behavior.

"I will not," said Draco Malfoy flatly when Hagrid had proposed this. "I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks."

Hagrid's smile faded off his face.

"Yeh'll do wha' yer told," he growled, "or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Moody's book…I hear yeh made a good ferret, Malfoy."

The Gryffindors of the class roared with laughter. Malfoy flushed with anger, but apparently the memory of Moody's punishment was still sufficiently painful to stop him from retorting. We returned to the castle at the end of the lesson in high spirits; seeing Hagrid put down Malfoy was particularly satisfying. The trio explained to me on the walk back that Malfoy had done his very best to get Hagrid sacked the previous year.

Upon arrival into the Entrance Hall, we found ourselves unable to proceed owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the Marble Staircase. I hopped up and down trying to read the sign but could barely read the first word before I was back onto the ground. The trio laughed and Ron, the tallest, stood on tiptoe to see over the heads in front of us and read the sign aloud:

> TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT
> 
> THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY-

"Brilliant!" Harry said. "It's Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won't have time to poison us all!"

“But I’d still watch out if I were you, Harry.” I said, nudging his ribs. He smiled down at me and shrugged.

> STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST.

"Only a week away!" a boy I recognized as being Ernie Macmillan from my Herbology class emerged from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. "I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go and tell him…"

"Cedric?" Ron said blankly as Ernie hurried off.

"Diggory," Harry said. "He must be entering the tournament."

My breath caught in my throat as Harry spoke.

"That idiot, Hogwarts champion?" Ron said as we pushed our way through the chattering crowd toward the staircase.

“He’s alright,” Harry said as he put his hands in his pockets.

"He's not an idiot. You just don't like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch," said Hermione. "I've heard he's a really good student - _and_ he's a Prefect."

She spoke as though this settled the matter.

"You only like him because he's handsome," Ron said scathingly.

“Ron, I’d watch what you’re saying,” I said, eyeing Hermione as her cheeks started to flush.

"Excuse me, I don't like people just because they're handsome!" Hermione said indignantly.

Ron gave a loud false cough, which sounded oddly like " _Lockhart_!"

She pushed past him to start climbing up the stairs and he followed after her, continuing their argument.

Harry looked down at me and smiled. “We should probably follow them.” He said, “But I kind of don’t want to.”

“Come on, Harry. Don’t make me a delinquent like you.” I said, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him forward.

His green eyes widened at my grip and for a moment I was confused, one, because we weren’t moving, and two, because of his facial expression.

“You alright?” I asked, about to let go of his arm.

He grasped my wrist lightly but firmly and my breath caught in my throat again.

“Don’t let go.” He said and started to bound up the steps, dragging me along behind him as we laughed along the way.


	9. Pine Trees and Subtleties

The appearance of the sign in the Entrance Hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where I went: _the Triwizard Tournament_.

Rumors were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.

Among the front runners of those planning on entering included a Sixth Year from my house who I had yet to meet, a handful of Ravenclaw students that I couldn’t place the names of, and of course, as Ernie MacMillan had said, Cedric.

I noticed as well that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The Fat Lady, already quite ruddy, looked like as red as a cherry when I left the Gryffindor dorms early Thursday morning.

The suits of armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any students who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics.

Other members of the staff seemed oddly tense too.

"Longbottom, kindly do not reveal that you can't even perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!" Professor McGonagall barked at the end of one particularly difficult lesson, during which Neville had accidentally transplanted his own ears onto a cactus.

“Please, Mr. Weasley, if you spent as much time looking at the stars as you do your watch, maybe you’d be able to locate Mars on the night it has been the closest to Earth in nearly a decade!” Professor Sinistra, our Astronomy teacher, yelled at Ron during a lesson where we were to quickly write down Mars’ coordinates in the stars and then polish the telescope stands.

When we went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, I was surprised to find that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

I was feeling out of sorts that morning, my head in one place, my body in another. When we entered the Great Hall, I followed the trio to sit next to Ron’s brothers Fred and George. Once again, and most unusually, they were sitting apart from everyone else and conversing in low voices. Ron led the way over to them.

"It's a bummer, all right," George was saying gloomily to Fred. "But if he won't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into his hand. He can't avoid us forever."

"Who's avoiding you?" Ron asked as he sat down next to them.

"Wish you would," Fred said, looking irritated at the interruption.

"What's a bummer?" Ron asked George.

"Having a nosy git like you for a brother," George said.

"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" Harry asked, looking from one Weasley to the other. "Thought any more about trying to enter?"

"I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling," George said bitterly. "She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon."

"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" Ron said thoughtfully. "You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before…"

I hadn’t been listening intently up to that point, but with Ron’s statement, I was suddenly focused. What kind of dangerous stuff?

"Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't," said Fred. "McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks."

"Who are the judges?" Harry asked. 

"Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," I said as I poked my eggs with my fork. Silence followed my statement, so I looked up and found everyone staring at me, rather surprised. Scratch that, Hermione actually looked proud. “Because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage."

Hermione noticed that all the boys were still confused so she said, "It's all in _Hogwarts, A History_. Though, of course, that book's not entirely reliable. _A Revised History of Hogwarts_ would be a more accurate title. Or _A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School_."

"What are you on about?" Ron said, though he should have seen what was coming.

"House-elves!" Hermione said, her eyes flashing. "Not once, in over a thousand pages, does _Hogwarts, A History_ mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!" 

Harry shook his head over his scrambled eggs and he looked away from his friends. His and Ron's lack of enthusiasm had done nothing whatsoever to curb Hermione's determination to pursue justice for house-elves (I was indifferent but Hermione didn’t seem to notice that either). True, we had all paid two Sickles for a S.P.E.W. badge, but we had only done it to keep her quiet. Our Sickles had been wasted, however; if anything, they seemed to have made Hermione more determined. She had been badgering Harry, Ron, and I ever since, first to wear the badges, then to persuade others to do the same, and she had also taken to rattling around the Gryffindor common room every evening, cornering people and shaking the collecting tin under their noses.

"You do realize that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms cleaned, and your food cooked by a group of magical creatures who are unpaid and enslaved?" she kept saying fiercely.

Some people, like Neville (the poor boy), had paid up just to stop Hermione from glowering at them. A few seemed mildly interested in what she had to say but were reluctant to take a more active role in campaigning. Many regarded the whole thing as a joke.

Ron now rolled his eyes at the ceiling, which was flooding us all in the autumn sunlight, and Fred became extremely interested in his bacon (both twins had refused to buy a S.P.E.W. badge). George, however, leaned in toward Hermione.

"Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?"

"No, of course not," Hermione said curtly, "I hardly think students are supposed to -"

"Well, we have," George said, indicating Fred, "loads of times, to nick food. And we've met them, and they're happy. They think they've got the best job in the world -"

I didn’t want to be a part of this argument. We had never had any house-elves growing up, and no one that we knew of did, so I had no horse in this race. So instead, my thoughts began wandering again. I stared off into the distance towards the doorway of the Great Hall, my vision blurred as I bit the insides of my cheeks. It had been hard to focus the past few days. I had been thinking of the incident less and less but my concentration seemed to fly out the window when I wasn’t in class. Luckily, something in my body knew that I needed to at least be aware of schoolwork.

My train of thought was interrupted when I heard a loud whooshing noise above me. From where I sat, I had a full view of my companions and noticed that Harry looked up at once, and I could see a blur of white soaring toward him. Hermione, who up to this point had still been arguing with the Weasleys, stopped talking abruptly; she and Ron followed Harry’s line of sight and watched Hedwig anxiously as she fluttered down onto Harry's shoulder, folded her wings, and held out her leg wearily.

Harry pulled off the letter and offered Hedwig his bacon rinds, which she ate gratefully. He then checked that Fred and George were safely immersed in further discussions before turning to me.

I pretended not to notice him and continued to stare into the distance. Seemingly satisfied, he leaned forward with Ron and Hermione following suit. He unfurled the letter and began to whisper.

> Nice try, Harry.
> 
> I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don't worry about me, just watch out for yourself. Don't forget what I said about your scar.
> 
> Sirius

"Why d'you have to keep changing owls?" Ron asked in a low voice.

 _Who is Sirius?_ I wondered. _And why are they being so secretive about him? Is he the same person who sent a letter last week?_

"Hedwig'll attract too much attention," Hermione said at once. "She stands out. A snowy owl that keeps returning to wherever he's hiding…I mean, they're not native birds, are they?"

Harry rolled up the letter and slipped it inside his robes before turning back to his pet.

"Thanks, Hedwig," he said, stroking her. She hooted sleepily, dipped her beak briefly into his goblet of orange juice, then took off again, clearly desperate for a good long sleep in the Owlery.

There was just so much to unpack of what I had just heard and I had so many questions. But what was I going to say? Hey Harry, you know that letter you’ve just gotten, yeah, you know the one you’ve just read to your friends. Yeah, what’s that about? I would just seem incredibly nosy about something that wasn’t my business.

Just then I saw, in my peripherals, a familiar flash of black and mustard yellow robes stand and head towards the Entrance Hall. I don’t know why, but I grabbed my bag and stood up.

I looked to Harry, Ron, and Hermione and said, “Ah, I forgot something back in the dorms. I’m going to go get it. I’ll meet you lot in class.”

“D’you want me to come with you?” Harry asked, reaching for his bag.

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s in the girls’ dorm anyway, you wouldn’t be allowed up.” I grinned. “Although…I have yet to see this infamous slide security measure you told me about…would you like to show me?”

I noticed Ron turn slightly pink. Hermione smiled at the memory.

“Erm, no, I don’t want to go down a slide so early in the morning. I think I’m good.”

“That’s what I thought,” I said, ruffling his hair absentmindedly.

Oh my god, what did I just do?

I quickly retracted my hand and turned away, too scared to see how Harry was reacting to what I had just done. I cringed internally. Why was I so embarrassing?

“Uh, bye!” I called out, as I speed walked away from the situation. What was wrong with me? What had made me do that to Harry of all people?!

Once outside of the Great Hall I closed my eyes and shook my body, trying to dispel myself of my embarrassment.

“What _are_ you doing?” I heard someone say.

I opened my eyes to find Cedric sitting on the Marble Staircase with a book and parchment on his lap. I quickly froze in place and I knew deep down that I had some sort of idiotic look on my face. The slow-growing smile on Cedric’s face only verified my thoughts.

I immediately fixed my stance and stood up straight, my arms folded in front of me. I cocked my head to the side and smiled at Cedric sweetly, “Whatever do you mean, Mr. Diggory?”

He stood up grinning and his robes fluttered behind him from the motion. He placed his book and parchment on a step and turned back to me. “I mean _this_.” He said as he began to mimic what I had just done.

I laughed quietly, his lanky body looking quite stupid as he continued to shake and wobble about. “Stop it, you look like an idiot,” I said, shaking my head.

“ _I_ look like an idiot,” he said suddenly stopping, “If I look like an idiot, just imagine how you looked!”

I knew that he was just kidding me but I pretended to be offended at his words. “Oh, Mr. Diggory, how you bruise my character so.” Was I from the Regency Era? Why was I talking like that? I needed to stop.

“Are you alright?” He chuckled, sitting back down on the step.

I walked towards him and looked down at his work. He seemed to be looking at his completed essay and checking his work. “I’m just fine, thank you,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Sit,” he said, gesturing to the empty space next to him.

I considered it for a moment. I honestly didn’t know where Cedric and I stood, what we were to each other. It was easy to box Harry, Ron, Hermione, & Co. as housemates. We were all required to see each other for hours upon hours during the day whether it be in class, in the Great Hall, or in Gryffindor Tower. My brother is, well, my brother is my brother. But Cedric and I had no real reason to keep interacting with one another. I wasn’t a wayward student who needed to be dealt with by a Prefect, nor was I a friend. He was a Seventh Year student and I was a Fourth Year. Theoretically, our paths should never cross…and yet they always did.

“Don’t take this as a sign of a truce,” I said, gently sitting next to him on the stairs. “You’re still a jerk.”

“A charming one, you’ll have to admit,” he said, grabbing his parchment and book again. Although he wasn’t looking at me, I could see the hint of a smile play across his lips.

The light from the open entrance doors was illuminating the hall with a soft, orange glow. Everything seemed so majestic in that moment. As I stared forward, the castle seemed to glisten. It was probably all the polish from the recent cleaning, but I liked to think that it was because Hogwarts had a little something special about it.

I could hear the scratch of a quill against parchment as I came to, suddenly remembering that I was sitting next to Cedric. I turned to look at him.

“So, uh,” He stopped writing and lifted his grey eyes to meet my light green ones. “I heard that you’re going to enter.”

He shifted his seating, now leaning towards me. A few strands of his light brown hair fell onto his forehead. “Now where did you hear that?”

My forehead knotted in confusion, why didn’t he just answer? “Your housemate, Ernie. He’s in my year.” I started to tug on the ends of my hair. “As soon as they put the sign up last week, he announced that he was going to go right to you to tell you about it.”

His eyes now shifted from me to his shoes, as if suddenly interested in the craftsmanship. “Yeah, I’m going to enter.”

I used my own shoe to tap the side of his. I could hear the light _thump!_  it made in the silence between us. “Why?” I asked in almost a whisper.

“The true answer? I think that I can do it.” He nudged my arm with his own. “Annnd, it’ll look great on my permanent record.” He smiled big, goofy, smile at that.

I didn’t know a lot of people at Hogwarts but Cedric did seem like a good choice. He had shown me nothing but kindness since we had first met.

“Are you sure you’re not in Ravenclaw, you _nerd_?” I asked, forcing the corners of my lips not to rise.

Cedric merely shook his head at me and said, “I’m sure.” His eyes suddenly focused and he said, “Although…I could show you to their dorms if you’d like.”

I laughed against my better judgment. “Nope, I don’t even think you’d know where to start,” I said. “But really, Cedric, consider what you’re about to get yourself into. It’ll be dangerous.”

He rolled up his parchment and tucked it into his bag along with his textbook. “Like I said, I really think I can do it. Although, if I need any help, I might just ask you.”

“What help would I be?” I asked, watching him wearily. “I’m in Fourth-Year. You’ve already learned all that they’re teaching me this year.”

He watched me for a moment before answering. “You can be my moral support. Cheer me on and all of that.” Cedric raised both of his eyebrows.

“Yeah, like I’d like to inflate that ego to be bigger than it already is!” I exclaimed, my hands waving around as I spoke.

Cedric just smiled gently and stood up. He went down five steps before reaching the bottom of the stairs. He turned around with a swish of his robes before he proffered a hand. “I can count on you to at least keep me grounded.” He said. “Here, take my hand.”

I stared at his palm. “Why?” I asked, anxiety beginning to creep through me.

“So I can help you up, Hazel,” he said.

“Oh,” I said simply.

“Are you going to take it or not?” Cedric asked, a single eyebrow arched.

I bit down on my bottom lip and closed my eyes, “Sure.” I reached out and felt his cold hand grip my warm one. His touch felt almost comforting, my body remembering how it had felt back on the second-floor corridor.

I felt him tug and I stood up. I opened my eyes and found myself staring at the top of his head. “Hey! I’m taller than you now!” I said, using my free hand to trace the height difference. I was then suddenly aware that he was still holding my hand. I looked down at them. He followed my gaze and reddened before releasing it.

“Ha, yeah,” He stuck the incriminating hand into his pocket and used the other one to run through his hair. “I’ve got class five floors up. I should probably head up.”

I laughed awkwardly and used both hands to grip the straps of my bag. “Yeah, that’s right. Um, have a good class.”

“You too.” He said before speeding up the Marble Staircase two at a time.

Um, what had just happened?

I was still frozen where Cedric had left me when I heard, “Hey, Hazel!”

I turned to the door and found that Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were now walking towards me.

“Did you get what you needed?” Harry asked as he stopped a step below where I was standing.

My cheeks warmed at his closeness but I tried to push it down. “Yup, grabbed the Transfiguration essay that’s due.” I lied quickly.

“The essay!” Neville exclaimed, “I forgot it upstairs.”

“You better hurry,” Ron teased. “McGonagall might have another fit.”

All colour left Neville’s face.

“C’mon, Neville,” Hermione said. “I’ll come with you and help you look for it. Let’s go or we’ll be late.”

Without another word, Neville sped up the stairs with Hermione trailing behind him.

“Aw, poor Neville,” I said, looking at Ron and Harry, all too aware of the latter’s presence.

Although I was a step higher than Harry, he was still slightly taller than me. Huh, I hadn’t noticed how tall he was. Good-looking taller men were so hard to find –

“You’re tall.” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Harry smiled but looked slightly confused at my outburst, “I guess.”

“You’re also tall.” I said to Ron so that I didn’t have to look at Harry anymore. Something inside said that if I were to look at him again, I might have some sort of fit.

“I am,” Ron said proudly, “tallest son, thank you very much.”

“I thought Bill was taller,” Harry said.

“We’re basically the same height.” Ron countered.

“Really? Cause I could have sworn—”

“Boys!” I said, clapping my hands between them. “ _We’re_ going to be late if you don’t stop bickering like little old ladies. Now, _come on_!”

I turned on my heel and raced up the steps, trying to get as much distance between myself and Harry so that I could clear my head.

_What is going on with me lately?_

* * *

There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons (especially me), being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; even Potions was more bearable than usual, as it was half an hour shorter. 

When the bell rang early Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I agreed to race up to Gryffindor Tower to deposit our bags and books as we had been instructed.

“Hey, Haz,” Harry said, as we rushed up the maze of moving staircases.

“I’m sorry, what?” I said, stopping in my tracks. “Who is Haz?”

“Sorry, I thought it could be your nickname.” He said, stopping as well. He looked so disheveled. His ink black hair was pointing every which way, the breeze from our sprinting having caused it to look windswept. His robes were hanging slightly off his shoulder, exposing his bright white button-down underneath. Throughout the weeks I’d been at Hogwarts, I had heard many girls – both younger and older than us – talking about _the_ Harry Potter and how utterly amazing he looked. I had even heard one girl call him Adonis come to life. Right then, I knew that if any other girl had been standing before him, they would have thrown themselves right at his feet. The annoying git could even pull off the tousled look.

I smiled him, shaking my thoughts from my mind. “No, the nickname is fine. I was just taken a little off guard, that’s all. My name is so short that I’ve never had a real nickname. Just sweetheart or honey, but that’s my parents for you.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Anyway, what were you going to say?”

He smiled broadly, his straight teeth on full display. “What I was going to say before I was _rudely_ interrupted,” he tapped me on the side of my arm to show he was kidding, “was that you should let me carry your bag upstairs. That way, you won’t be weighed down and we’ll get there faster.”

“My bag’s not even _that_ heavy,” I said, adjusting it on my back. “I’m okay.”

“ _Haz_ , I insist. We’ll get there twice as fast. Come on, it’s nothing.”

He stepped closer to me and used two fingers from each hand to gingerly slip underneath the straps and slide them off my shoulders. I could feel my face turn red as I watched him. It felt like he was undressing me...I came back from the recesses of my mind and was about to open my mouth to protest but I stopped when I saw the earnest look on his face.

Harry Potter had been a name that I’d known my whole life. As early as I could remember, our parents would tell us the story of the evil wizard who had tried to take over the wizarding world and how when he tried to kill an innocent child, Harry, the little boy became the cause of the evil man’s demise. I had imagined that that boy would grow up to be arrogant from having accomplished so much before he would even speak properly. But here was the prodigal child before me, an annoying git at times, yes...but would a supercilious man be so kind as to carry someone else’s bag?

Before I knew it, Harry had maneuvered my bag off of me and shouldered it on top of his own.

“Harry, give it back.” I tried to reach for my bag. “I made of much stronger stuff than I seem. Hurry up and hand it over or we’ll be late.”

“Nope...well, I’ll give it to you if you can catch me.” He cocked his head as if to challenge me.

“What are we? Childr—” Before I could finish what I was about to say, Harry launched himself into a sprint, his long legs putting him almost a full staircase away before I even started running.

“You brat!” I yelled at him, as I ran with arms outstretched.

We passed classmates and strangers alike on our way up to the dorms. We laughed for most of the way – him harder than I — and laughed even more when we passed Ron and Hermione who watched us with bewilderment. By the time I had caught up to him and yanked my bag off of his person, we were a mere twenty or so steps away from the Fat Lady.

“Password?” she asked as she sipped from a glass of brandy.

“Vampire Bats.” I said, eyeing her smeared eyeliner.

Her portrait swung open and we rushed in.

“Meet you back down in a few?” He asked as we stood in the middle of the common room.

“Sure,” I said. “Last one down has to clean Crookshanks’ litter box for the rest of the year.”

Without waiting for his agreement, I dashed up the stairs and tried to get to my dorm as quick as possible. Lavender, Pavarti, and Faye were all there and getting themselves ready. I voiced a quick hello before dumping my things onto my scarlet bedsheets. I turned to rush back out the door but then I remembered that it was pretty chilly out and I could probably do with a scarf.

I grabbed it off from the top of my trunk and was back into the stairwell seconds later. I stomped back down the steps while wrapping the scarf haphazardly around my neck. At the last of the steps, I jumped down and frantically searched the common room for Harry.

“Ha, I beat you.” I said to myself. A couple of third years who weren’t that far from me looked over at me, confused.

Just then, I heard loud footsteps from the boys’ dorms which was soon followed by Harry’s lanky body barreling down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he scanned the room and his face fell when he saw that I was already downstairs. But as fast as he had frowned, he now smiled as he walked towards me.

“You cheated.” Harry stated.

He somehow looked more disheveled than earlier. It suited him though, he seemed like every other teenage boy in that moment. He wasn’t the infamous _Harry Potter_ , rather, he was just Harry. I looked to his arm and noticed that he was also holding his Gryffindor scarf but had yet to put it on.

“I did not cheat!” I tried to say this with a straight face...but the smile that wanted to come out overpowered my acting abilities. I felt myself smirk as I stared him directly into his eyes.

“Yes you did, you ran without waiting for me.” He crossed his arms across his chest.

“I merely copied what you had done earlier. So if I’m cheating, you cheated first.” I mirrored his stance.

Harry broke out into a grin. I came to realise that when he smiled, his whole demeanor brightened. At times Harry could seem so broody, as if the whole world was on his shoulders…but when he smiled, he was so light.

He raised his hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. You won fair and square. Do I really have to clean Crookshanks’ litter box?” He shuddered.

I giggled and shook my head. He looked so horrified that I didn’t have the heart to go through with it. And anyway, how was he supposed to get to it anyway? It wasn’t as if he could just meander his way up the girls’ dorms. “No, I guess not. I’ll let you off easy this time, Potter.”

He smiled again. “Thank you. But in the future…ah no—” He turned pink.

“What were you going to say?”

“Ha, ah, oh nothing.” He suddenly seemed very interested in his regulation shoes.

“Spit it out.”

“It’s alright. I’ll tell you another time.” He watched me and said, “I promise.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Potter. Otherwise, I might have to finally make good on _my_ promise of infiltrating the boys’ dorm with mischievous motives.”

“I’m waiting with bated breath.” He raised his eyebrows up and down repeatedly.

“You are such an idiot,” I said. I checked my watch, “Oh shit, we need to be down there soon.”

He looked down at his own watch, “We do. Let’s go.”

Harry turned but I stopped him by grabbing his arm. He turned back and looked at me with surprise written all over his stupid face.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, making no effort to squirm out of my grip.

“You look a mess. McGonagall will disembowel you if you show up like that.” I said, looking at him from head to toe. His hair stood at attention with no rhyme or reason, his robes were still hanging off his shoulders, and his tie didn’t even have a knot any more. “Come here.”

Using the hold I had on him, I pulled him towards me to where we only stood a foot or so apart. I waited for the anxious feeling that usually overtook me when I was in close proximity to any boy but it never came. Instead, I felt his intense gaze on my face as I made quick work of his tie. I retied it and was about to joke around and pretend to make it really tight but...I couldn’t go through with it. Instead, I felt my face redden since I could still feel him watching.

Neither one of us said anything as I gently pinched the shoulders of his robes and positioned them correctly onto his body. I buttoned the closure of the robes and was now standing as close to him as I was when I fell on top him at the World Cup. I plucked his scarf from his hand and briefly grazed his hand. I nearly jumped at the unexpected touch but closed my eyes and took a deep, soothing breath. When I had regathered my wits about me, I whipped the scarf over his head and made an effort to not look him directly in the eyes. I felt like if I looked at him, it would all seem more intimate than it was.

I decided that it was safe to stare at his blush coloured lips instead if I really needed to look. I wrapped his scarf smartly around his neck and fixed its position on his abdomen so that it lay flat and uniform. As I used my hand to smooth it down his chest, I could feel his surprisingly hard body. I knew that he was a Seeker on the Quidditch team, but the toned body I could feel beneath his clothes surprised me and made me blush again. This was the closest I had ever been to a man. 

I hesitated for a moment before I dared meet him in the eye. Who knew what I’d find there.

I slowly tilted my head up, first looking at his lips once more, then his straight nose, and finally, those emerald green eyes.

My body shivered at the intensity that met me. It started at the base of my spine and radiated out to reach every nerve ending of my body. I tried to comprehend what his look meant…but I also wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer. Some things were better left alone.

I was about to declare him presentable to the world at large but stopped when I remembered that his hair was a mess. My arm twitched as the thought crossed my mind to fix it but somehow – at least for me – fixing his hair would be the most intimate moment of all.

“Um, Harry?” I said in a voice that was almost a whisper.

“Yeah?” He replied in a tone that matched mine.

“Can I, erm, is it alright if I fix your hair?” I toyed with the end of my scarf as I spoke. “It’s just that it looks a mess and I don’t want you to go out there looking like a mad man. Unless that’s what you’re going for? It’s alright if you don’t want me to, I won’t take it badly or anything. We should probably get going anyway you –”

“Hazel.” A small smile appeared on his lips. “Hazel, it’s fine with me if you fix it. You’d be doing me a big favor.”

We held each other’s gaze for a moment before I reached up and ran a hand through his hair. So dark was his hair that my pale hand seemed to glow. Harry’s hair was softer than I imagined and quite thick. I smoothed it down, forcing it to bend to my will. As I pushed some of the hair back, I uncovered his scar and I had to stop myself from reaching out and touching it. It seemed so unreal, like it was plucked from a children’s fable. But now it was right in front of me, all too real. I pushed the thought away from my mind and set back to working Harry’s hair. I used both hands now, each taking a separate part of his head to style. After a few moments, it was better than before. It wasn’t perfect but the slightly tousled look seemed to be Harry’s trademark.

“There.” I said, taking a much-needed step back so I could breathe…and take in Harry’s full appearance. He looked like the model Hogwarts student now, with my help of course.

Harry lifted his to the side as he stared at me intently. “How do I look?” He asked softly.

“Better, because of me.” I teased, hoping to add some sort of levity to the heavy air between us.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He replied.

“You haven’t even seen yourself. I could have made you look like an idiot.”

“I trust you.” He said simply.

I tilted my head, about to reply when the portrait hole opened and Hermione and Ron stepped through.

“There you are,” Hermione said as she passed. “Give us a second and we can all walk down together.

I nodded and I heard Harry mumble some sort of agreement. We didn’t dare speak now. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say anyway, so instead, I retied the scarf I wore. When I was satisfied, I looked back at Harry. He wasn’t looking at me but somehow felt me watching and he met my eyes.

“Do I look decent?” I asked.

“You look great,” he said.

“Except…” he closed the distance between us and lifted both of his hands towards my face. “May I?” He asked.

I froze. What was he about to do?

I nodded.

Both hands now were hovering on each side of my face, almost cupping them. But rather than cup my cheeks, he hands moved further back and tenderly brushed hair from each side of my head and tucked them carefully behind each ear.

He took a step back like I had done and regarded me up and down.

“Perfect.” He declared before turning away.

We didn’t say another word until Ron and Hermione came back down to the common room.

“Alrigh’,” Ron pulled a knitted cap over his head, “let’s go.”

We traveled down to the Entrance and found that the Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.

We swiftly placed ourselves into the fourth row of the students. I stood next to Harry and I swear I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Honestly, did all boys run hot? Why couldn’t that have been shared with girls?

"Weasley, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair."

Parvati, who had just arrived with Lavender, scowled and removed a large, orange, ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.

"Follow me, please," Professor McGonagall said. "First years in front…no pushing…"

We filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest. From our position in the fourth row, we had a clear view of the grounds considering the first through thirds years were so small.

"Nearly six," Ron said, checking his watch and then staring down the drive that led to the front gates. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"

"I doubt it," Hermione said.

"How, then? Broomsticks?" Harry suggested, looking up at the starry sky.

"I don't think so…not from that far away…" I said as I peeked out of the corner of my eye at him.

"A Portkey?" Ron suggested. "Or they could Apparate – maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?"

"You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?" Hermione said impatiently.

We scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving; everything was still, silent, and quiet as usual. I was starting to feel cold. I shivered where I stood. Why couldn’t they hurry up? Maybe the foreign students were preparing a dramatic entrance…

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers -

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"There!" yelled a Ravenclaw sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick - or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks - was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.

"Don't be stupid…it's a flying house!" said the little boy who had fallen into the lake the first night.

His guess was closer though. As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, we saw a gigantic, powder blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward us. It was pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed - then, with an almighty crash that made Neville jump backward onto a Slytherin fifth year's foot, the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

I had just noticed that the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then a shining, high-heeled black shoe - a shoe the size of a child's sled - emerged from the inside of the carriage and was followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman I had ever seen in my life. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.

I had only ever seen one person as large as this woman in my life, and that was Hagrid; I doubted that there was an inch difference in their heights. As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman.

Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dort," Madame Maxime said in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," Dumbledore said.

"My pupils," Madame Maxime said, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

I had been so focused on Madame Maxime, that I hadn’t noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what I could see, they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces. I felt suddenly defensive of Hogwarts.

"As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

I shivered at the mention of heat. Harry beside me looked my way for a second but soon returned to watching the headmasters.

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime. "But ze 'orses -"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," Dumbledore said, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other - er - charges."

"Skrewts," Ron muttered to Harry, grinning.

"My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling," Madame Maxime said, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong…"

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," Dumbledore said, smiling.

"Very well," Madame Maxime said, bowing slightly. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," Dumbledore replied, also bowing.

"Come," Madame Maxime said imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Seamus Finnigan said, leaning around Lavender and Parvati to address Harry and Ron.

"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," Harry said. "That's if he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"

"Maybe they've escaped," said Ron hopefully.

"Oh don't say that," I said with a shudder that was from both the cold and the idea he had just presented. "Imagine that lot loose on the grounds…”

We continued to wait for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky.

I eyed Professor McGonagall for a moment to see if she was looking my way, when I confirmed that she was not, I lifted the wool of my scarf to cover the lower part of my face. The autumn chill was in full effect that night.

“You alright?” Harry whispered, turning his head to look down at me.

“I’m okay,” I replied, my scarf muffling my voice a bit.

“You sure? You look like you’re about to freeze to death.” He said, gesturing to my repositioned accessory.

“It’s chilly, that’s all.” I said while quickly glancing back to McGonagall. This was not the night to piss her off.

“Here,” Harry said as he whipped off his own scarf in one swift movement. He used it to wrap around my hands which were admittedly starting to lose circulation. When he was done, he gave the top a quick little pat and smiled. “There, that’s better.”

Heat rose to my cheeks, which helped to warm me up a little, but I wondered if it was my scarf doing its work or something else entirely.

“But you’ll be cold now.” I muttered, beginning to move my hands out of his scarf.

He put his hands over mine and said, “I’ll be fine. Keep it on, Hazel, I wouldn’t give it to you if I really needed it.”

I mulled over it for a few seconds. I felt bad for taking his scarf on such a cold night but I had no reason but to take him for his word. I bumped him gently with the side of my body and whispered into his ear, “Thank you.”

For a few minutes, there was only silence which would be intermittently broken by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping. But then -

"Can you hear something?" Ron said suddenly.

The whole crowd straightened and tried to listen. A loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed…

"The lake!" yelled Lee Jordan, the twins’ best friend, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!"

From our position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, everyone had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water - except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks - and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor.

What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool.

"It's a mast!" Harry said to Ron, Hermione, and I.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, we heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

People were disembarking; I could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship's portholes. All of them, I noticed, seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy’s lackeys. But then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the Entrance Hall, I realised that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied. Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle I saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow, and Harry noticed that his smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. "How good it is to be here, how good…Viktor, come along, into the warmth…you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold."

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. As the boy passed, I caught a glimpse of a prominent curved nose and thick black eyebrows. I didn’t need the punch on the arm Ron gave Harry to recognize that profile.

"Harry - it's Krum!" Ron whispered excitedly.

“I don't believe it!" Ron said in a stunned voice as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. "Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!"

"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," Hermione said with an eye roll.

"Only a Quidditch player?" Ron said, looking at her as though he couldn't believe his ears. "Hermione - he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"

As we recrossed the Entrance Hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, I saw Lee Jordan jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head. Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked -

"Oh I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me -"

"D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

"Really," Hermione said loftily as we passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick.

“Let them be,” I said to Hermione. “They’re being frivolous, yes, but they aren’t hurting anyone.”

She shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm getting his autograph if I can," Ron said. "You haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?"

"Nope, they're upstairs in my bag," Harry replied.

We walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down. Ron took care to sit on the side facing the doorway because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit. The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. I noticed a clump of the Beauxbatons girls sat in close proximity to my brother, some of them even chatting him up. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads.

"It's not that cold," Hermione said defensively. "Why didn't they bring cloaks?"

"Over here! Come and sit over here!" Ron hissed. "Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space -"

"What?"

"Too late," Ron said bitterly.

Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. Anyone could see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle looking very smug about this. As I watched, Malfoy bent forward to speak to Krum.

"Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Malfoy," Ron said scathingly. "I bet Krum can see right through him, though…bet he gets people fawning over him all the time. Where d'you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer him a space in our dormitory, Harry. I wouldn't mind giving him my bed, I could kip on a camp bed."

Hermione snorted and I elbowed her to stop.

"They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot," Harry said. The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest; a couple of them were picking up the golden plates and goblets and examining them, apparently impressed.

Up at the staff table, Filch was adding chairs. I was surprised to see that he added four chairs, two on either side of Dumbledore's.

"But there are only two extra people," I said. "Why's Filch putting out four chairs, who else is coming?"

"Eh?" Ron said vaguely. He was still staring avidly at Krum.

The heat from the large fireplaces that lined the Great Hall thoroughly warmed my body. As we sat there waiting, I grew very hot and I needed to remove my scarf. I reached up to pull it off but was greeted with the reminder that Harry had wrapped my hands. I had completely forgotten. Harry had chosen that moment to look my way and he broke out into a large smile. I laughed and tugged my hands out.

I lay his scarf onto the bench next to me and unwrapped the one around my neck. I dumped it on top of Harry’s.

When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," Dumbledore said, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh.

"No one's making you stay!" Hermione whispered, bristling at her. I agreed with her anger.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore said. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of us than I had yet seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

"What's that?" Ron said, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

"Bouillabaisse," I answered.

"Bless you," said Ron.

"It's French," said Hermione, "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice."

"I'll take your word for it," Ron said, helping himself to black pudding instead.

The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there. Perhaps it was because their differently colored uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts' robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep blood red.

Hagrid sidled into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He slid into his seat at the end and waved at us with a very heavily bandaged hand.

"Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harry called.

"Thrivin'," Hagrid called back happily.

"Yeah, I'll just bet they are," Ron said quietly. "Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers."

“I might have to sneak out tonight and kidnap them all.” I said. “I’ll use one of those flying palominos to send them to some zoo in the south. At least then, we’ll be rid of them.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione laughed. At that moment, a voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"

It was the girl from Beauxbatons who had laughed during Dumbledore's speech. She had finally removed her muffler. A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth.

Ron went purple. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise. I tried to keep myself from laughing out loud.

"Yeah, have it," Harry said, pushing the dish toward the girl.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?"

"Yeah," Ron said breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."

I rolled my eyes so hard that I gave myself a small headache. The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Harry started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.

"She's a veela!" he said hoarsely to Harry.

"Of course she isn't!" Hermione said tartly, her face a fevered red. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!"

But she wasn't entirely right about that. As the girl crossed the Hall, many boys' heads turned, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Ron.

"I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" Ron said, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!"

"They make them okay at Hogwarts," said Harry into his plate.

I wondered who Harry was thinking about. I looked around the hall and saw many pretty girls at each of the tables. Angelina Johnson, a sixth year of my house, was absolutely gorgeous.

"When you've both put your eyes back in," Hermione said briskly, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived."

She was pointing up at the staff table. The two remaining empty seats had just been filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr. Crouch, Percy's boss, was next to Madame Maxime. I remembered them visiting Mr. Weasley at the camping grounds before the World Cup.

"What are they doing here?" said Harry in surprise.

"They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?" Hermione said. "I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."

When the second course arrived, I noticed a number of unfamiliar – at least to Hogwarts –  desserts too. Ron examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely, then moved it carefully a few inches to his right, so that it would be clearly visible from the Ravenclaw table. The girl who looked like a veela appeared to have eaten enough, however, and did not come over to get it. Harry elbowed Ron’s ribs and laughed at his friend’s desperation.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. I felt a slight thrill of excitement course through me, wondering what was coming. Several seats down, Fred and George were leaning forward, staring at Dumbledore with great concentration.

"The moment has come," Dumbledore said, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket -"

"The what?" Harry muttered.

Ron shrugged.

“Maybe the casket’ll hold the prize for winning?” I speculated.

“Yeah, maybe,” Harry whispered.

"- just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" - there was a smattering of polite applause - "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Remembering him in his neat suit at the Quidditch World Cup, I thought he looked quite strange in wizard's robes. His toothbrush mustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts.”

At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed the sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking mostly unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," Dumbledore said as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways: their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction, and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.”

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames. The weird part of my mind wondered if the fire was hot and if that cup could be used in the future as a regular drinking goblet.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," Dumbledore said. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.”

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," Dumbledore said, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.”

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

"An Age Line!" Fred said, his eyes glinting, as we all made our way across the Hall to the doors into the Entrance Hall. "Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're laughing - it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"

"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," Hermione said, "we just haven't learned enough…"

"Speak for yourself," George said shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?"

I looked at Harry as he seemed to contemplate the idea. I held the scarves in arms tighter in anticipation of his answer, but it never came.

"Where is he?" Ron said. He wasn't listening to a word of this conversation but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum. "Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?"

But this query was answered almost instantly; we were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students.

"Back to the ship, then," he was saying. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"

I saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on.

"Professor, Ivood like some vine," said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully.

I snickered underneath my breath.

"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy -"

Karkaroff turned and led his students toward the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as our group. Harry, who had been in the lead, stopped to let him walk through first. His stop had been so sudden that I had slightly bumped into his back with my body as I tried to do the same.

"Thank you," Karkaroff said carelessly, glancing at him.

And then Karkaroff froze. He turned his head back to Harry and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Behind their headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt too. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon his scar. I had half a mind to use one of the scarves in my hand to wrap around Harry’s head and drag him out of the Hall.

The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw comprehension dawn on a few of their faces. The boy with food all down his front nudged the girl next to him and pointed openly at Harry's forehead.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," a growling voice said from behind us.

Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang headmaster.

The color drained from Karkaroff's face as we watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over him.

"You!" he said, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him.

"Me," Moody said grimly. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

It was true; half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind us, looking over one another's shoulders to see what was causing the holdup.

Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him until he was out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face.

“Alright you lot, go back to your dorms. Nothin’ to see here.” He grumbled as he walked away with a loud _clunk_ on every other step.

* * *

We made it back to the Fat Lady anymore interruption. When we arrived, George rattled off the password and we stumbled in. 

“We’re going up to check on our Aging Potion,” Fred said, looking at us. “Any of you want to come and check it?”

“I will!” Ron said excitedly.

“We’re not going to give you any, you git.” George said. “But you’re welcome to look.”

“Well, I’m heading to bed.” Hermione crossed her arms. “Crookshanks needs a proper brushing, anyway.”

“Harry? Hazel?” Fred raised his eyebrows.

“I’m fine.” I replied straight-faced, “It’s not safe for me to be behind enemy lines without reinforcements.”

Fred and George, who I knew on a very surface level, surprised me by walking over to me and flanked me on each side. They each put an arm around me and laughed.

“I like you.” Fred said, squeezing me hard.

“We’ll remember to include you on any missions, should we need help.” George squeezed as well. “You seem like you could hold your own.”

“I hardly think Hazel would want to join any of your hijinks.” Hermione interjected. “She’s not out to get into trouble.”

“Thanks guys, I’ll keep that in mind.” I smiled genuinely at them. Fred and George had a way of making you feel very welcomed and they always seemed like fun. If I had been at Hogwarts since my first year, maybe I would have been friends with them.

“Right, we’re heading up.” The Weasley boys climbed up the boys’ stairs.

Hermione turned to me and said, “I’m going up. When you come later, I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sure,” I replied, wondering what was troubling Hermione.

She left and went up to our room.

I walked into the middle of the common room with Harry and looked around. The room was only partially full, it seemed like most students wanted to nip off to bed or at least gossip in private. Everyone still here was chattering excitedly, exchanging guesses of who’d be entering within the next day. The room was so full of energy…except in one corner. There, nestled towards the back of the room, was Neville. He sat in front of a sheath of parchment and book. He had a look of such frustration on his face that I wandered over. I could feel Harry in my wake.

I knocked gently on the edge of the table and said, “Hi Neville.”

“Oh, hi Hazel. Hi Harry.” He looked back to his parchment immediately. There were a couple of paragraphs but some sentences had been crudely scratched out.

“Is everything alright?” Harry asked, taking a seat across from him.

“It’s just that I wanted to get started on the essay Snape wants for next week and I know that I really need to do well on this essay because I haven’t been doing well with potions and Gran’ll kill me when she finds out and—”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, Neville.” I said, taking the seat next to him. “That’s not due for five days. It’s Friday night, you should be relaxing.”

“I can’t! If I do, Snape will find out and he’ll pick on me even _more_!”

“If you want, I can help.” I said, looking at his worried blue eyes.

“I’ll help too, though, I don’t know what I’m doing sometimes.” Harry added.

“Thanks guys,” he looked down at his essay.

“Here let me read it.”

I took the parchment and read while Harry tried to distract him by talking about the night’s events. I grabbed Neville’s quill and wrote suggestions in the margins and crossed out things that didn’t work. By the time I had completed reading it over, some of the common room had gone up to bed and now there were only ten of us all together.

Neville eagerly read my corrections. I smiled at him. He was such a sweet guy. He always tries so hard and there’s something to say about people like that.

I stretched in my chair and as I waited for Neville to work at his essay a little more. I slid down my chair and stretched as long and wide as I could without hitting anymore. As I shook out my legs to regain some feeling, I kicked the table. I didn’t think anything of it until Harry said, “You kicked me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” I said, sitting up straight in my chair. I peeked down below the tabletop to check if I had gotten any markings on his clothes. “Did I hurt you?” I asked.

“I’m fine. Just thought you should know that you tried to kill me…again.” His green eyes gleamed with amusement.

“Oh shut up!” I said, making a face at him. “I _was_ sorry for a moment, but now that’s gone. You ruined it by trying to set me up for a crime I didn’t commit… _again_.”

That made him laugh. “I’ll deny anything you say.” He said.

“Same applies to you.” I retorted.

We helped Neville for another hour. By the time I rechecked his essay, we were the only three in the common room.

“You should change this,” I muttered, grabbing his quill again.

Harry took the essay and wrote his own corrections. Neville set back to work and I could feel my eyelids droop. I grabbed one of the scarves and bunched it on the table to use as a pillow. As my eyelids started to fall, I felt a soft kick against my shin.

I looked up and saw Harry smiling. I shook my head and nudged his shin back. We went back and forth for a few minutes while making faces at one another until Neville moved his books in front of us and asked for clarification on the text.

We spent another hour helping. The firelight was growing dim as time passed, so while Harry tried to explain to Neville that he needn’t to put that much effort, it’s just Snape, I walked over to the fireplace and tossed more logs into the fire. When the flames didn’t pick up straight away, I whispered a quick  _Incendio_ to help it along.

“Cheater.” said a voice from behind me.

Startled, my body jerked and my heart skipped a beat. I turned to find Harry cackling.

“You know what, I’m going through with that skrewt kidnapping plan!” I shoved his shoulder. “But rather than flying them away, I’m going toss them at you in your dorm!”

“Please don’t, I live there too!” I heard Neville say from the table.

“Don’t worry, Neville, I’ll wake you up and let you escape. The rest are going to be fodder for the skrewts.” I said, turning his way.

“Thank you,” he said before returning back to his work.

I tried to hold back a smile but couldn’t. Neville was absolutely endearing.

“I was only kidding,” Harry said when I turned back to him.

“I wasn’t.” I replied. “I’ve told you before, remember, one eye open.”

I walked back to the table with Harry following behind me. Neville appeared to be almost done with his essay. As I waited, I stared Harry down as I had done a many times before. He met my gaze and did not falter this time. In truth, I wanted to crack up, I was only holding a grudge to amuse myself. I wasn’t truly angry but it was fun to watch him sweat. A few moments later, Harry mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

My icy exterior shattered and a warmth traveled through me. I offered a small smile and mouthed back, “You’re forgiven.”

Neville finally finished his essay and he handed it over to me. Harry looked sleepy so I offered him one of the scarves to lay on. By the time I had finished reading and adding annotations to Neville’s work, Harry was fast asleep. I smiled at his sleeping form. He looked so peaceful and…not annoying.

I handed Neville’s essay back and he began to rewrite on a fresh piece of parchment. As his quill scratched across the paper, I asked him questions about his life. I knew that he lived with his grandmother, but there was so much to Neville that I didn’t know. As he transcribed, he told me about his childhood and how he had grown up thinking he might be a squib. I laid my head on the remaining scarf and listened, Neville was a great storyteller, shy but eloquent. He asked me questions in return and I answered them easily, but soon my eyes were drooping once more. The last thing I remember before succumbing to sleep was Neville looking up from his essay and smiling at his work and the strong scent of pine.


	10. Autumn Chill

A loud crack of thunder woke me from my slumber. For a moment, I wondered where I was…At minimum, I knew for a fact that I wasn’t in bed. I whipped my head around, trying to process what was around me. It was then I realized that I had fallen asleep in the common room. I looked back to the table and only found Harry still asleep. Neville seemed to have gone to bed after his essay was complete.

A yawn escaped from my lips as I stretched my arms into the air. According to my watch, it was six in the morning. The weather outside the fogged window indicated that Halloween at Hogwarts was going to be quite damp.

“Mmm.” I heard Harry grumble.

I looked over to see if he had woken up but instead found him with his eyebrows knitted together…and still sound sleep. I liked to imagine he was dreaming about something stupid, like his face.

Another boom of thunder echoed through the room’s stone walls.

“I should probably wake you up,” I said to Harry.

Part of me didn’t want to, this was the quietest and least annoying form of him I’d met. But having slept on the table had left my back hurting and if he wanted to sleep more, he could at least do it in his bed.

I rested my chin on top of my arm and watched Harry for a moment more before I reached out with my hand. I tapped his head. When that didn’t work, I started to lightly shake his arm.

“Harry,” I whispered, watching for any sign of life. “Hey, Harry, wake up.”

“…put on a kettle…” Harry mumbled, “…tea time…”

“Wake up,” I nudged him again.

“...the kids have their trunks ready…” A quiet laugh escaped my lips.

I put a hand on each of his shoulders and shook him gently. “Harry, it’s Christmas morning, wake up.” I said.

His eyes popped opened and I smiled as I watched confusion play across his face.

“What? Where are we? It’s Christmas?” His voice was husky with sleep. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re in the common room, we fell asleep while helping Neville.” I said, leaning back down on top of the table.

Understanding dawned on him and the wrinkle above his brow disappeared. “Oh.” He said simply.

“What were you dreaming about?” I asked, “Something about tea and kids?”

Harry looked down and mumbled, “I don’t remember.”

“You sure?” I tilted my head to the side. “Seemed interesting.”

“I’m sure,” he said quickly, looking back up at me. “Where’s Neville?”

“I think he abandoned us after he finished.”

Harry copied my posture. “I had an interesting time helping him.”

“What help were _you_?” I asked, eyebrows raised. “You spent most of the time trying to talk him out of doing a well-written essay.”

“It’s just Snape, who cares?” He smiled, “I believe someone I know once threatened to stick an eye of newt up his, and I quote, ‘greasy arse’.”

I smiled broadly at the memory, even now surprised at how unguarded I had been when I said that. “While that may be true, I don’t want Neville in any more trouble. He could do something as innocuous as scratch his head during class and Snape would dock thirty points.”

“I guess,” Harry stood. “We should go get ready. Let’s see if anyone’s put their name in the cup yet.”

I rose up and grabbed the scarf on the table. “All right, let’s meet up in half an hour. You bring the ginger, I’ll bring the bushy haired one.”

“Deal.”

I raced up the stairs taking two at a time, anxious to get out of my day-old clothes. When I entered my shared dorm, only Hermione was awake. From the looks of it, she had just gotten up herself. There was still sleep that crusted her eyes and her hair was puffier than normal.

“Hazel!” She said in a voice just above a whisper. “Where have you been? You didn’t come back last night! Don’t tell me the boys convinced you to sneak out. They’re so stupid sometimes—”

I crossed the five steps it took to get to her bed. “Calm down, Hermione. I fell asleep in the common room while helping Neville with the potions essay that’s due next week.”

“Oh!” She said, coming down from her frantic questioning. “How nice of you. Did he fall asleep downstairs too?”

Hermione stood up and grabbed her bathrobe and toothbrush from her trunk. I walked to my bed and grabbed the same items.

“No, he didn’t, actually.” I started to remove my school robes. “It was just Harry and I.”

I had just finished taking off the robe and placed my scarf onto the bed when I realised that all sound from Hermione’s area ceased. I turned around and found her staring with her mouth agape.

“What?” I asked, pulling my robe up to my chest as if it were a shield.

“You and Harry…” She looked at me questioningly.

It took me a few seconds but when I realised what she meant, I could feel my cheeks heat up. “No! Nothing like that! How would that even…you’re crazy…never!” The heat stayed in place.

“I just thought…” Hermione looked away. “Never mind.”

“Thought what?” I asked, walking closer to her.

“I don’t know what I thought, it’s just…” She straightened her spine. “Never mind me, I’m still waking up.”

She scooped up her things off her bed and scampered to the door. I wanted to push her further, ask what she meant, but sleeping late and waking early had dampened my energy. Hermione and I were able to find a bathroom with no one else inside and began our routines. As I rinsed shampoo from my hair, I remembered that the night before she had wanted to talk about something.

“Hey, Hermione?” I called out, letting the hot water envelop me. It helped to relieve some of the tension that had concentrated around my shoulders.

“Yeah?”

“What’d you want to talk about last night?” I rinsed out my shampoo.

“What are you ta—” She paused. A few seconds later, she said, “Ah, I don’t want you to overthink it but…I wanted to ask you something.”

What would I overthink? “Go ahead.”

“Do you,” she paused again, “do you think that Ronald’s been acting a bit strange lately?”

I covered my mouth with my hand to prevent a laugh from escaping. For being the smartest girl in our year, she was quite thick at times. “I mean, I haven’t known him for that long…” I pretended to ponder for a moment. “But I haven’t seen anything different from him. He still seems to be the same guy I met a few months ago. Same tendencies…same _interests_ …”

“He’s been so annoying lately, though,” she sighed. “I feel like he’s trying to be an idiot on purpose.”

“Hermione,” I added conditioner to my hair, “are you sure you’re not the one overreading him or the situation.”

“Wha—” I could hear her sputtering from her stall, “why would I do that?”

“I don’t know Hermione, why don’t you tell me?”

She remained silent for the rest of our time in the showers. When we met by the sinks, she started a new conversation and didn’t mention Ron again. We spoke about classes until we returned to the dorm to change. Faye, Lavender, and Pavarti were up now and scrambling to get their things ready.

“We’ll miss it all!” Lavender squealed, rushing out the door. Pavarti was at her heels. Faye followed soon after.

“I told Harry to meet us in the common room in about…” I reached for my watch, “ah, in about five minutes.”

I quickly dressed in jeans, a thermal undershirt, and a particularly thick, navy blue sweater. I looked over and saw Hermione was just a little behind me in getting ready so I slowed down as I placed my wand into my pocket and strapped on my watch. The last thing I put on was my scarf. As I wrapped it around my neck, a familiar scent overwhelmed my senses. My scarf didn’t normally smell like this, it usually smelled like my poppy body soap. This was a sort of pine scent that I had for sure smelled before but I wasn’t certain where.

“Huh,” I muttered. “Maybe the elves changed detergents?”

“What was that, Hazel?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, nothing,” I replied.

When we were both ready, we marched down the stairs and met Ron and Harry at the bottom.

“Morning Harry!” I said, smiling. I turned to Ron, “Morning, Ronald!”

“Someone’s a little too chipper this morning,” Ron yawned.

“Oh, Ron, don’t let the rain get you down! You’ve got us!” I grabbed his shoulders, “Or if you want one, you can have Hermione, you both seem to be in the same mood this morning.”

They both gasped at me but I made for the portrait hole before they could respond. Harry was right behind me, laughing.

When we reached the Entrance Hall, we saw about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had seemingly been placed in the center of the hall on the stool that bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked a third-year girl eagerly.

"All the Durmstrang lot," she replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," Harry said. "I would've if it had been me…wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"

Someone laughed behind Harry. Turning, we saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.

"Done it," Fred said in a triumphant whisper. "Just taken it."

"What?" said Ron.

"The Aging Potion, dung brain," Fred said.

"One drop each," George said, rubbing his hands together with glee. "We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," Lee added, grinning.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," Hermione said warningly. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this."

Fred, George, and Lee ignored her.

"Ready?" Fred said to the other two, quivering with excitement. "C'mon, then - I'll go first -"

I watched, fascinated, as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words “Fred Weasley – Hogwarts”. Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the Entrance Hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.

For a split-second I thought it had worked - George certainly thought so, for he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred - but in the next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards.

The Entrance Hall rang with laughter, myself included. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards. Ron had doubled over, laughing so hard that tears were falling down his cheeks. Hermione, usually so composed, was laughing as heartily as everyone else. Harry leaned onto Hermione’s shoulder, his face buried into her back.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice. Everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

Fred and George set off for the Hospital Wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I, still chortling, went in to breakfast.

The decorations in the Great Hall had changed this morning. Since it was Halloween, a cloud of live bats was fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner. Harry led the way over to Dean and Seamus, who were discussing those Hogwarts students of seventeen or over who might be entering.

"There's a rumor going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in," Dean told Harry. "That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."

Harry shook his head in disgust. "We can't have a Slytherin champion!"

"And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," Seamus said contemptuously. "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks.

Huh, so he _had_ gone through with it. The thought left me with a bad taste in my mouth, but it was probably just my hunger gnawing at me.

"Listen!" Hermione said suddenly.

People were cheering out in the Entrance Hall. We all swiveled around in our seats and saw Angelina Johnson coming into the Hall, grinning in an embarrassed sort of way. She was the pretty sixth year I had heard about. She came over to us, sat down, and said, "Well, I've done it! Just put my name in!"

"You're kidding!" Ron said, looking impressed.

"Are you seventeen, then?" Harry asked.

"Course she is, can't see a beard, can you?" I said.

"I had my birthday last week," Angelina said.

"Well, I'm glad someone from Gryffindor's entering," Hermione said. "I really hope you get it, Angelina!"

"Thanks, Hermione," Angelina said, smiling at her.

“Yeah, better you than Pretty-Boy Diggory,” said Seamus, causing several Hufflepuffs passing our table to scowl heavily at him. I wanted to scowl too but thought against it.

"What're we going to do today, then?" Ron asked when we had finished breakfast and were leaving the Great Hall.

"We haven't been down to visit Hagrid yet," Harry said.

"Okay," Ron said, "just as long as he doesn't ask us to donate a few fingers to the skrewts."

“If he does, I vote that we give yours.” I declared. Harry and Hermione nodded.

A look of great excitement suddenly dawned on Hermione's face.

"I've just realized - I haven't asked Hagrid to join S.P.E.W. yet!" she said brightly. "Wait for me, will you, while I nip upstairs and get the badges?"

"What is it with her?" Ron said, exasperated, as Hermione ran away up the Marble Staircase.

Just as Hermione climbed up the stairs, I noticed the door to the dungeons open. A cluster of students walked out with their heads bowed together. They chattered excitedly as they neared the Goblet of Fire and stopped a few metres away from the Age Line.

“Hey guys!”

We collectively turned around and were met with Cedric’s smiley face. Ron grimaced for the briefest of moments but quickly settled his face into a more neutral look. Harry merely raised his eyebrows with a curious expression.

“Hey,” Ron said.

“Hi Cedric,” Harry greeted.

“Uh, hey!” I could feel my body tense. I watched Harry and Cedric intently and waited for someone to say something.

“Heard you entered…” I said after several seconds had passed in awkward silence.

Cedric nodded, “Yeah, I did.”

I tried to hide the concern that washed over me. It felt as though the blood in my veins had turned as cold as ice.

I rolled my shoulders to try and help get rid of the feeling and said, “If you’re chosen, your fan club will only get bigger.” I pointed over his shoulder to a group of girls who were whispering behind their hands and smiling at the back of Cedric’s head.

“Yeah, you’ll never hear the end of it,” Harry added, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Go on,” I said, “Give them a taste of you.”

The smile that I was trying to hide broke through my resolve. Cedric noticed and bent down to my ear, “Do you want the first bite?”

I felt my face turn red as heat engulfed my body. “ _Cheeky bastard_ ,” I thought as I tried to compose myself. A haze muddled my mind for a few seconds, causing me to be unable to think properly…and I didn’t like it one bit. I swallowed and took a deep breath before whispering, “Sorry, I don’t like to share.”

I took a step back to put distance between us and watched Cedric straighten. If I didn’t know any better, it looked as though he was a little flushed himself. The fog had dissipated now and when I came to, I remembered that Ron and Harry were there as well. I stole a quick glance at Harry and saw the confusion in his deep green eyes.

Cedric chuckled and looked to the boys. “I’ll leave you to it, I need to grab a coat from my dorm.” He gave them each a nod before walking away.

After he had distanced himself and was out of the view of the boys, Cedric turned slightly and winked at me. I gave him a small smile and rolled my eyes.

I looked back to my companions and found them staring at me.

“What was that all about?” Ron asked, pulling out a piece of bread he had apparently taken from the Great Hall and taking a bite.

“What do you mean?”

“What did he say to you and _why_ did he say something to you?” Harry was silent as Ron asked his questions.

“Oh, that?” I scrambled to think of what I could say. If I told them the truth, there’d be way more questions than I could handle. “He told me that he was able to get a detention that I was supposed to have thrown out.”

“What?” Harry’s brows furrowed. “When did you get detention?”

 _Ahhhhhhh, think you idiot, think of something!_ “Uh, that day when Moody, you know…”

Recognition dawned on both of their faces and they looked back at me solemnly. “In my, uh, _state_ , I almost cursed a second year who startled me,” I lied through my teeth. I felt bad outright lying, that wasn’t who I was, but telling them the truth didn’t feel right to me. “Another Prefect saw us and even though I didn’t do anything, she wrote me up. Cedric happened to pass by and tried to convince her not to turn it in since I didn’t technically do anything...he was able to get find the paperwork before a teacher saw. So yeah, he just wanted to let me know…probably didn’t want to embarrass me by outing my detention.” I hoped that they at least believed twenty percent of what I had just said.

I made eye contact with both and they nodded. I wanted to cry, they were so accepting…even of lying bitches like me.

"Hey, Ron," Harry suddenly said. "It's your friend…"

The students from Beauxbatons were coming through the front doors from the grounds, among them, the veela-girl. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly. I relaxed slightly since now the focus wasn’t on me.

Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students and organized them into a line. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped across the Age Line and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks. It reminded me slightly of fireworks and I grew transfixed as each slip caused the reaction.

"What d'you reckon'll happen to the ones who aren't chosen?" Ron muttered to Harry as the veela-girl dropped her parchment into the Goblet of Fire. "Reckon they'll go back to school, or hang around to watch the tournament?"

"Dunno," said Harry. "Hang around, I suppose. Madame Maxime's staying to judge, isn't she?"

When all the Beauxbatons students had submitted their names, Madame Maxime led them back out of the hall and out onto the grounds again.

"Where are they sleeping, then?" Ron said, moving toward the front doors and staring after them.

A loud rattling noise behind me announced Hermione's reappearance with the box of S.P.E.W. badges.

"Oh good, hurry up," Ron said, and he jumped down the stone steps, keeping his eyes on the back of the veela-girl, who was now halfway across the lawn with Madame Maxime.

As we neared Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the mystery of the Beauxbatons' sleeping quarters was solved. The gigantic powder-blue carriage in which they had arrived had been parked two hundred yards from Hagrid's front door, and the students were climbing back inside it. The elephantine flying horses that had pulled the carriage were now grazing in a makeshift paddock alongside it.

Harry knocked on Hagrid's door, and Fang's booming barks answered instantly. Ron was still staring when Hagrid appeared.

"'Bout time!" Hagrid said when he'd flung open the door. "Thought you lot'd forgotten where I live! And you brough’ Hazel!"

I smiled at Hagrid. Although I questioned his choices in creatures to study, he was such a jovial man that you couldn’t help but love him.  

"We've been really busy, Hag -" Hermione started to say, but then she stopped dead, looking up at Hagrid, apparently lost for words. I followed her line of sight.

Hagrid was wearing a very horrible hairy brown suit with a checked yellow-and-orange tie. This wasn't the worst of it, though; he had evidently tried to tame his hair, using large quantities of what appeared to be axle grease. It was now slicked down into two bunches - perhaps he had tried a ponytail like Ron’s brother Bill’s but found he had too much hair. The look didn't really suit Hagrid at all. For a moment, Hermione goggled at him, then, obviously deciding not to comment, she said, "Erm - where are the skrewts?"

"Out by the pumpkin patch," Hagrid said happily. "They're gettin' massive, mus' be nearly three foot long now. On'y trouble is, they've started killin' each other."

"Oh no, really?" Hermione said, shooting a repressive look at Ron, who, staring at Hagrid's odd hairstyle, had just opened his mouth to say something about it. I grabbed Ron’s arm and squeezed tightly as a warning.

"Yeah," said Hagrid sadly. "S'okay, though, I've got 'em in separate boxes now. Still got abou' twenty."

"Well, that's lucky," Ron said. Hagrid missed the sarcasm.

Hagrid's cabin comprised a single room, in one corner of which was a gigantic bed covered in a patchwork quilt. A similarly enormous wooden table and chairs stood in front of the fire beneath the quantity of cured hams and dead birds hanging from the ceiling. We sat down at the table while Hagrid started to make tea and we were soon immersed in yet more discussion of the Triwizard Tournament. Hagrid seemed quite as excited about it as we were.

"You wait," he said, grinning. "You jus' wait. Yer going ter see some stuff yeh've never seen before. Firs' task…ah, but I'm not supposed ter say."

"Go on, Hagrid!" Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I urged him, but he just shook his head, grinning.

"I don' want ter spoil it fer yeh," Hagrid said. "But it's gonna be spectacular, I'll tell yeh that. Them champions're going ter have their work cut out. Never thought I'd live ter see the Triwizard Tournament played again!"

We ended up having lunch with Hagrid, although we didn't eat much - Hagrid had made what he said was a beef casserole, but after Hermione unearthed a large talon in hers, we rather lost our appetites. As much as I wanted to take another bite for Hagrid’s sake, I couldn’t muster up the strength.

In the end, we enjoyed ourselves by trying to make Hagrid tell us what the tasks in the tournament were going to be, speculating which of the entrants were likely to be selected as champions, and wondering whether Fred and George were beardless yet.

The rain had started lighten up by midafternoon; it was very cozy sitting by the fire, listening to the gentle patter of the drops on the window, watching Hagrid darning his socks and arguing with Hermione about house-elves - for he flatly refused to join S.P.E.W. when she showed him her badges.

"It'd be doin' 'em an unkindness, Hermione," he said gravely, threading a massive bone needle with thick yellow yarn. "It's in their nature ter look after humans, that's what they like, see? Yeh'd be makin' 'em unhappy ter take away their work, an' insutin' 'em if yeh tried ter pay 'em."

"But Harry set Dobby free, and he was over the moon about it!" said Hermione. "And we heard he's asking for wages now!"

“Dobby?” I mouthed to Harry while tilting my head.

“Later,” he mouthed back.

"Yeah, well, yeh get weirdos in every breed. I'm not sayin' there isn't the odd elf who'd take freedom, but yeh'll never persuade most of 'em ter do it - no, nothin' doin', Hermione."

Hermione looked very cross indeed and stuffed her box of badges back into her cloak pocket.

By half past five it was growing dark, and we agreed that it was time to get back up to the castle for the Halloween feast - and, more important, the announcement of the school champions.

"I'll come with yeh," Hagrid said, putting away his darning. "Jus' give us a sec."

Hagrid got up, went across to the chest of drawers beside his bed, and began searching for something inside it. I didn't pay too much attention until a truly horrible smell reached my nostrils. Coughing, Ron said, "Hagrid, what's that?"

"Eh?" said Hagrid, turning around with a large bottle in his hand. "Don' yeh like it?"

"Is that _aftershave_?" Hermione said in a slightly choked voice.

"Er - eau de cologne," Hagrid muttered. He was blushing.

"Maybe it's a bit much," he said gruffly. "I'll go take it off, hang on…"

He stumped out of the cabin, and we saw him washing himself vigorously in the water barrel outside the window.

"Eau de cologne?" Hermione said in amazement. "Hagrid?"

"And what's with the hair and the suit?" asked Harry in an undertone.

"Look!" Ron said suddenly, pointing out of the window. Hagrid had just straightened up and turned 'round. If he had been blushing before, it was nothing to what he was doing now. Getting to our feet very cautiously so that Hagrid wouldn't spot us, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I peered through the window and saw that Madame Maxime and the Beauxbatons students had just emerged from their carriage, clearly about to set off for the feast too. We couldn't hear what Hagrid was saying, but he was talking to Madame Maxime with a rapt, misty-eyed expression.

"He's going up to the castle with her!" Hermione said indignantly. "I thought he was waiting for us!"

I giggled, truly amused at what was transpiring and just how incredulous the trio were.

Without so much as a backward glance at his cabin, Hagrid was trudging off up the grounds with Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons students following in their wake, jogging to keep up with their enormous strides.

"He fancies her!" Ron exclaimed. "Well, if they end up having children, they'll be setting a world record - bet any baby of theirs would weigh about a ton."

We let ourselves out of the cabin and shut the door behind us. It was surprisingly dark outside. I drew my cloak closer to my body as we set off up the sloping lawns. Harry fell into stride with me, his arms grazing mine with every other step. I appreciated the slight warmth that his body gave and tried to soak as much up as I could.

"Ooh it's them, look!" Hermione whispered, turning to face Harry and me.

The Durmstrang party was walking up toward the castle from the lake. Viktor Krum was walking side by side with Karkaroff, and the other Durmstrang students were straggling along behind them. Ron watched Krum excitedly, but Krum did not look around as he reached the front doors a little ahead of us and proceeded through them.

When we entered the candlelit Great Hall, it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table. Fred and George - clean-shaven again - seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well.

"Hope it's Angelina," said Fred as Harry and I sat next to him.

"So do I!" said Hermione breathlessly across the table. "Well, we'll soon know!"

The feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was our second feast in two days, I didn’t savour the foods like I would normally have. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, I simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions.

“Final bets?” I asked those around me.

“I bet Krum’ll be Durmstrang’s champion.” Ron replied as bits of cake spewed from his mouth.

“Everyone else is up in the air.” Harry said, staring up at the goblet.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state. There was a sudden sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. Nervous tingles spread all across my body.

On either side of the Headmaster, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," Dumbledore said. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them to please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" - he indicated the door behind the staff table - "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging us all into a state of semi-darkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting…A few people kept checking their watches…

"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, two seats away from Harry.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped. I dug my nails into my palm.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. I watched as Viktor Krum rose from the Slytherin table and slouched up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

"It's her, Ron!" Harry shouted as the girl who so resembled a veela got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party.

 _"Disappointed" was a bit of an understatement_ , I thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on top of their arms.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement that you could almost taste it. Nervous butterflies infiltrated my belly and I dug my nails deeper into my palm. The Hogwarts champion next…

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

“ _Oh_ ,” I breathed, unsure whether to feel excited or immediately worried.

"No! " Ron said loudly, but nobody heard him except Harry and I; the uproar from the next table was too great. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. As he passed, his eyes met mine and he winked. I rolled my eyes and joined in with the applause.

The applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

While the clapping died down, the feeling I had had earlier in the day returned. My blood felt like ice as it coursed through my veins and even though I muttered a quick warming spell to myself, I could feel myself losing colour. My breaths started to increase in pace as what felt like an anxiety attack started to consume me.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. I tried my hardest to listen.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked, having just noticed my demeanour.

“Um,” I breathed, “I don’t know. I feel weird.”

"Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real -"

Harry put his palm against my forehead, “Do you want to go to the Hospital Wi—"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking and Harry followed suit. It was immediately apparent to everybody what had distracted the professor.

The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out -

"Harry Potter."

The feeling was now consuming my whole body, but just as quickly as it had arrived, it suddenly left me. My whole focus was now on Harry and his immobile state.

As Harry sat there, every head in the Great Hall had turned to look at him.

There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen, in his seat.

I kept my gaze on Harry, but I could see through my peripherals that at the top table, Professor McGonagall had gotten to her feet and swept past to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her.

Harry turned to Ron, Hermione, and then, me. Behind him, the whole of Gryffindor house stared, open-mouthed.

"I didn't put my name in," Harry said blankly. "You know I didn't."

Both of them stared just as blankly back. I reached to put my hand on top of his and said, “ _I know_.”

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

"Go on," I whispered, giving Harry a slight push.

Harry got to his feet, trod on the hem of his robes, and stumbled slightly. He set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. The buzzing grew louder and louder. I wish everyone would just shut up. After what seemed like an hour, he was right in front of Dumbledore, looking like a child facing a giant.

"Well…through the door, Harry," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling.

Harry moved off along the teachers' table. Hagrid was seated right at the end. He did not wink at Harry, or wave, or give any signs of greeting. He looked completely astonished and stared at Harry as he passed like everyone else.

“ _What the fuck_?” I said, turning to Ron and Hermione. Ron still stared blankly but I could see the gears turn in Hermione’s mind.

Back at the teacher’s table, the professors had now all convened to a small group by Dumbledore’s chair and were engulfed in a hushed meeting. A few moments later they separated and Ludo Bagman quickly strode into the chamber.

The buzz had now turned into a full-blown roar as everyone tried to comprehend what had just happened.

Ron broke from his stupor and started muttering to himself but I couldn’t make out what he was saying over the noise.

“How did he do it?” Fred asked, a large grin on his face. “George! Harry’s bloody brilliant, isn’t he?”

George was matching his brother’s smile with his own, “We’ve got to celebrate. Let’s go down and get some food for a party!”

Without looking back at us, they stood from the table and speedily maneuvered their way out of the Hall.

“Hermione,” I called. She turned to me. “What are we going to do?”

She looked at me defeatedly, wrinkles creasing her forehead, “What _can_ we do?”

“But he didn’t put his name in the fire. I _know_ he didn’t!” I whined, reaching for my water.

“I know, but I don’t think Harry can get himself out of this one.”

Professor Sprout cleared her throat and the crowd silenced. “Head to bed. That’s all.”

Nobody needed to be told twice and I stood up quickly, still trying to make sense of what had happened. Hermione and Ron rose as well and the three of us silently walked all the way back to the dorms.

“Vampire Bats.” I muttered when we reached the Fat Lady.

“Is it true then?” She asked, leaning forward in her portrait. “Is Potter a champion?”

“Vampire Bats.” I repeated and I heard Ron tut from where he stood.

“You lot are no use,” She said as she swung open.

The common room was fairly empty but the people who _were_ there were chatting excitedly about the Gryffindor champion.

Ron didn’t so much as say a word before he turned towards the boys’ stairs and climbed up.

“What’s with him?” I asked Hermione, who was watching Ron leave.

“I think he’s still trying to take it all in.” Hermione tucked her bushy hair behind her ears. “He’s the youngest of the boys’ in his family and I think he might be jealous. Harry always gets the attention. It’s not his fault, things keep happening to him but…I think Ron’s actually jealous this time.”

The common room started to fill up as everyone returned from the Great Hall. Fred and George arrived half an hour after Hermione, Ron, and I with copious amounts of food cradled in their arms.

“Where’d you get all these?” I asked, helping them set it down at an empty table.

“The kitchens,” George replied, smiling.

Soon the room seemed at capacity. No one was going up to their rooms, everyone was waiting for Harry. Every time the portrait swung open, the group quickly turned their heads towards the door but each time it was a false alarm.

Finally, the portrait opened and a familiar messy mop of dark hair entered the room. His piercing green eyes roamed the room as a blast of noise that erupted from our housemates. Soon he was being wrenched inside the common room by about a dozen pairs of hands, and was facing the whole of Gryffindor House, all of whom were screaming, applauding, and whistling.

"You should've told us you'd entered!" bellowed Fred; he looked half annoyed, half deeply impressed.

"How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" roared George.

"I didn't," Harry said. "I don't know how -"

I tried making my way towards him but struggled against the crowd around him. For every step forward I made, I was pushed two back.

But Angelina had now swooped down upon him; "Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor -"

"You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!" shrieked Katie Bell.

"We've got food, Harry, come and have some -"

"I'm not hungry, I had enough at the feast -"

But nobody wanted to hear that he wasn't hungry; nobody wanted to hear that he hadn't put his name in the goblet; not one single person other than Hermione and I seemed to have noticed that he wasn't at all in the mood to celebrate.

Lee Jordan had unearthed a Gryffindor banner from somewhere, and he insisted on draping it around Harry like a cloak. Harry couldn't get away; whenever he tried to sidle over to the staircase up to the dormitories, the crowd around him closed ranks, forcing another butterbeer on him or stuffing crisps and peanuts into his hands. Everyone wanted to know how he had done it, how he had tricked Dumbledore's Age Line and managed to get his name into the goblet.

"I didn't," he said, over and over again, "I don't know how it happened."

But for all the notice anyone took, he might just as well not have answered at all.

I finally forcefully shoved through those in front of me and reached Harry. Hermione was right at my heels and we flanked him on either side.

“You know I didn’t enter, right?” He said, a painful expression on his face.

“I know.” I replied, locking my gaze with his. “I know, I was with you.”

He looked sheepishly over to Hermione, waiting for her verdict.

“Well, of course I knew you hadn't entered yourself," she said. "The look on your face when Dumbledore read out your name! But the question is, who _did_ put it in?”

Harry was about to open his mouth when Fred and George rushed through us and grabbed Harry by his underarms.

“Let’s eat more!”

No matter how hard Hermione and I tried to break through the crowd again, it didn’t budge.

"I'm tired!" Harry bellowed finally, after nearly half an hour. "No, seriously, George - I'm going to bed -"

He insisted that he needed to sleep, and almost flattened the little Creevey brothers as they attempted to waylay him at the foot of the stairs. Harry managed to shake everyone off and climb up to the dormitory as fast as he could.

With Harry gone and the party still raging, Hermione and I headed up to bed ourselves, still trying to comprehend the night’s events.

“They’re obviously letting him compete,” I said as I changed into my canary yellow nightgown.

“I’m betting that there’s nothing that the professors could do once his name came out of the goblet.”

“Let’s at least try to talk to Ron tomorrow. He’s being very dramatic,” I trotted over to sit at the end of Hermione’s bed.

She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “I agree, but I don’t know if he’ll be in the right mood tomorrow. He can be quite mercurial when he wants to be. One minute he could have gotten over it already but then the next be furious at the situation all over again.”

“I’ve noticed…” I said. “All right, I’ll let you sleep. We have an interesting day ahead of us tomorrow.” I gave Hermione a small smile to try and lighten the mood. She returned it before pulling the covers over her head.

The moment I covered myself with my blankets, all my worries came crashing down on me. Who could have wanted Harry to be competing? Was it a prank? What a stupid prank though, Harry could be killed. A lot of people have died during the competition before. At the same time, I didn’t know why I cared so much, I barely knew Harry…but thinking about how one wrong move could possibly…

“Ugh, stop thinking about that,” I muttered under my breath.

 _But then there’s also Cedric._ I thought. _He’s of age and knows way more but…he’s the only person in this school I can turn to. Not that I ever do…but he always seems to find me in my moments of despair._

“Gah,” I whispered, “go to sleep, you foolish bitch.”

* * *

I woke up the following morning with a pounding headache. Light had just appeared over the horizon and the clouds from the day before were gone. I could tell that is was going to be a cold day from the way the window pane was fogging up from the heat emanating from the dorm room.

I roused up Hermione and we made quick work of showering and getting ready. I dressed in a thick, woolen sweater and a coat to combat the cold. When we reached the common room, there were only about ten people milling around no sign of Harry or Ron. Hermione and I waited fifteen minutes for any sight of the boys before heading down for breakfast.

I found that I didn’t really have an appetite but I put a small portion of eggs and single sausage onto my plate anyway.

“The whole school thinks he did it and that somehow we’re in on it,” I said to Hermione.

She had been eating small bites of her meal but looked up when I spoke.

“Everyone’s been staring Gryffindor table and I’ve noticed a few people staring at you and me.” I pushed my sausage around my plate.

“Let them think what they want,” She forked food into her mouth in indignation.

I had just finished my eggs when a familiar mop of red hair trudged into the Hall and sat down next to Hermione. Ron immediately filled his plate with heaps of food and before Hermione and I could speak, started guzzling it at top speed.

I looked at Hermione and nodded at her. They were closer, it would make more sense for her to start the conversation.

“…Ron?” Hermione said tentatively.

A few seconds passed where all I could hear was Ron’s chewing. Finally, he muttered, “Yeah?”

“We wanted to talk to you about last night.” Hermione began in a gentle tone. “Maybe arrive at the same page about what happened?”

“S’nothing to talk about.” Ron snarled before taking another bite.

“Oh, come on, Ronald.” Hermione normal annoyed tone she always had with Ron returned. “You very well know that—”

“Hermione, not now.” He said, dropping his fork. “I really don’t want to talk.”

“But Ronald, you can’t tell me you think that Harry put his name in the goblet.”

“Well, what am I supposed to think!” He said loudly.

“Oh, stop it. You’re making a scene.” Hermione tutted.

“Where was he that night? He didn’t even come back to the dorms! He even said that if he was going to do it, he’d do it when everyone was sleeping so that no one would see him. I’m not stupid, you know.”

Hermione gave him a look as if to say, “but you _are_ stupid”.

“He was with me the whole night.” I said quietly.

His head whipped my way, and I could now see his face in full view. His anger had caused him to flush red, but it was in splotches. Small, crimson patches dotted his face like a rash. “What do you mean he was with you?” He asked, his voice dripping with condescension.

I didn’t like the tone he was putting on with me but I pushed the feeling down, not wanting to elevate the situation further. “What I mean is that Harry and I were helping Neville with the potions essay most of the night. Harry fell asleep before I did. He never left the common room.”

Ron shook his head, “How do you know that he didn’t sneak out after you’d fallen asleep? He could have been pretending.”

“Ron, you know Harry much better than I do.” I reached across the table and put a hand on top of his. “Is he the type of person to do all that you’re accusing him of?”

Ron opened and closed his mouth a few times without saying anything. The red splotches were fading but there was still a hint of resentment behind his clear, blue eyes.

He suddenly stood up and began to walk away. Hermione’s eyes widened and she looked back and forth between Ron and me.

“Go after him, I’ll take care of Harry.” I said, gesturing towards Ron’s brooding frame.

Without another word, she sped towards him, catching up near the doors.

I could understand the world of hurt that Ron was feeling, but he was letting his emotions get to him. Even though all evidence was proving his theory wrong, he kept convincing himself that he was right.

I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. This was all getting to be too much and I didn’t know how to deal with it all. I was so deep in thought that I didn’t notice a form take what had just been Hermione’s seat.

“Hazel?”

Startled, I jumped a little and looked up to find my brother straight ahead of me.

“Mike.”

“Are you okay?” His pale green eyes that matched my own, were etched with concern.

“I’m fine,” I said, offering a smile. “I’m just worried is all.”

“About Harry?” He asked.

“Yeah.” I sighed again. “Everyone thinks he entered when I know he didn’t. Not only that, everyone’s so judgmental that they don’t even realise how dangerous this is for a Fourth-Year!”

“How are you so sure that he didn’t do it?” He asked and then quickly added when he saw my expression, “I don’t believe he entered – I saw what happened to underage students when they tried – but you’ve only met him, why do you believe him?”

“It’s not so much have a clear reason to believe him, it’s that he was with me that night…” I proceeded to tell him exactly what I had told Ron.

“Oh,” Michael ran a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, so…” I grabbed a napkin and started to stack buttered toast into it. “Now you know…you know that he’s innocent in all of this.”

“I’m going to go to the dorms.” I stood up, “I’ll see you later you little shit, I love you.”

Michael grinned, “I love you too.”

I arrived to a much fuller Gryffindor common room. The room was partially packed and full of noise. The excitement from the night before had not died down and seemed to be amplified by the daylight. I found an empty chair near the wall and waited for any glimpse of Harry. I hadn’t seen him during the walk up, so I hoped he was still in the dorms.

The moment he appeared, the people who had already finished breakfast broke into applause again. He scowled slightly, not happy with his unwanted audience. He walked resolutely over towards the portrait hole, where I stepped in tandem with him.

He turned to me with an annoyed expression but it broke when he realized that it was only me.

“Hello,” I said, holding up a stack of toast in the napkin. "I brought you this…Want to go for a walk?"

"Good idea," Harry said gratefully.

We went downstairs, crossed the Entrance Hall quickly without looking in at the Great Hall, and were soon striding across the lawn toward the lake. It _was_ a chilly morning, like I had predicted, and I was happy to be under many layers of warmth. We kept moving, munching on toast, as Harry told me exactly what had happened after he had left the Gryffindor table the night before. 

“You don’t have to convince me that you didn’t enter. First, I was with you the entire night. Second, you’re incredibly dumb, but you’re not _that_ stupid.” I tried to joke. We had sat down on a mostly dry patch of grass and I punched him lightly as if to really nail in my joke.

“But the question is, who _did_ put it in? Because Moody's right, Harry…I don't think any student could have done it. They'd never be able to fool the Goblet, or get over Dumbledore's -"

"Have you seen Ron?" Harry interrupted.

I hesitated.

"Erm, yes. He was at breakfast," she said.

"Does he still think I entered myself?"

"Well, no, I don't think so…not really," I replied awkwardly.

"What's that supposed to mean, 'not really'?"

"Oh Harry, isn't it obvious?" I said despairingly. "He's jealous!"

"Jealous?" Harry said incredulously. "Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?"

"Look," I began patiently, "Hermione said it's always you who gets all the attention…and you know it is. I know it's not your fault," I added quickly, seeing Harry open his mouth furiously. "I know you don't ask for it. But - well - you know, Ron's got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friend, and you're really famous - he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many."

"Great," said Harry bitterly. "Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it. People gawping at my forehead everywhere I go."

"I'm not telling him anything," I said shortly. "Tell him yourself. It's the only way to sort this out."

"I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up!" Harry said, so loudly that several owls in a nearby tree took flight in alarm. "Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or -"

An ice-cold shiver traveled down my spine. "That's not funny," I said quietly. "That's not funny at all." I felt on the verge of tears.

“Look, I’m sorry.” He placed a surprisingly very warm hand on my knee. “I know, I was out of line. It’s just…it can be too much.” Harry bowed his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Harry?” I put a hand on his, “talk to me. I know you’re hurting…and I want to be there for you.” As I said those words, I realised that I truly meant it.

“I can’t.” He said, his eyes still closed.

“Why not?” I gently squeezed his hand. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I do!” Harry said, meeting my gaze. “But what I’m about to tell you might change your opinion of me.”

“I promise it won’t.” I grasped his hand on my knee with both hands now.

“I’m sure you know about the infamous night I got this scar.” He pointed to his forehead. I nodded. “The story behind what happened that night isn’t the real truth. The story goes that one of my father’s best friends—”

“Sirius Black?” I interrupted, remembering what I had been told.

“Yes, Sirius Black, betrayed my parents to Voldemort,” I bit my lip when he said the name. I had always been taught never utter it, it was like saying a curse. “But the truth is that it was another one of my father’s friends that betrayed them, Peter Pettigrew. He framed Sirius for the betrayal of my parents, his own ‘murder’, and of those Muggles. In reality, he had severed one of his fingers and changed into his Animagus form, a rat.”

I struggled to keep up, the information went against everything I had learned, but I knew Harry wasn’t lying to me.

“Somehow, he ended up at the Weasleys, where he was their pet rat for _twelve_ years. Ron even had him for our first three years here! Anyway, last year, Sirius escaped Azkaban because he saw in the newspaper that Pettigrew was still alive. He recognized Peter’s Animagus form from a picture of the Weasley family in the paper. Sirius wanted to avenge my parents’ deaths and was able to get to Hogwarts but was caught by the Dementors and Pettigrew ran off. Hermione and I were able to save Sirius but now he’s on the run...he’s still wanted. I’m always worrying that he’s been caught…he’s my godfather and the only loving family I have left…”

He shuddered and I squeezed his hand harder.

“You see…this scar I have?” He pushed his hair up. “When Voldemort is feeling particularly strong about something, or he’s close, it starts to hurt.”

“What!” I asked, my eyes widening. “But—but…”

“Yeah, Voldemort still around. He’s not…human, I don’t know what he is…but he’s still around and I think he’s planning something.” He sighed. “It hurt a while back, so I told Sirius, but it worried him to the point that now he’s flying back to Scotland so that he can be near me. He’s acting like an idiot. He could get caught!”

“He’s doing it because he cares, Harry.” I whispered, watching the quiet waves of the lake splashing the shore.

“But, I can’t lose him, Hazel. I can’t!” His eyes were watery but no tears fell.

“You won’t, Harry.” I lay my forehead on top of our sandwiched hands. “Trust him.”

We sat in silence. It felt weird to still be holding his hand now that he wasn’t speaking but it felt weirder to let go. He had just let me into his life, _the_ Harry Potter had just told me things that few others knew, adding me to a very select circle. If I had thought Harry’s life had been difficult before, I understood now that it was even more difficult than I had ever thought. No one should have to go thr—

“Hazel?” Harry whispered.

I turned my head to look at him, he looked so tired, too tired for a fourteen-year-old. “Yes, Harry?”

“You don’t have to tell me, but you know, that day in Moody’s class…” He trailed off, trying to find the right words to say. “I-I know you said that I wouldn’t understand but…I’m here for you.”

I closed my eyes tightly. A rush of what felt like tiny fireworks flooded my nerve endings and warmed my skin. I felt hot all of a sudden, even in the crisp chill of autumn air in Scotland.

 _Could I tell Harry?_ I squeezed my eyes tighter. _B-but what if he looks at me in a different light? What if he reacts in a way that h-hurts me, that I can’t handle?_

I opened my eyes, facing the grass between us. I couldn’t bear looking at him directly.

“What I-I’m about to say…will change the way you look at me.” I removed my grasp over his hand. “And I’ll understand if you don’t want to be around me anymore.”

“Hazel, look at me. I promise you that nothing will change. My opinion of you won’t change.” I felt him shift next to and his knee was now grazing mine.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Harry.” I said.

“I don’t,” he lowered his voice, “you can trust me." 

I opened my eyes and immediately met Harry’s concerned gaze. Well, it was now or never.

I took a deep, shuddering breath. “It was the night of the World Cup. It had been a wonderful night; the game had been amazing. Why am I even telling you this? You were there. After the Death Eaters made their little commotion and we’d run into Malfoy…and after the explosion where I ducked while the rest of you ran…I was alone.” I avoided Harry’s eyes as much as possible. I didn’t know if I’d be able to finish telling him what happened because part of me was too afraid to see his reaction.

“I stood up and tried to call for you all, but there was nothing but absolute silence and it chilled me. It was so strange but I could still feel the vibrations of those running through the forest but I couldn’t hear a thing. And like the idiot I am, I wasn’t truly scared like I should have been. I was only wondering how I was going to find the rest of the group.” _Here we go_.

“I was so lost in my head, like I always am.” I shook my head as I stared blankly at the Durmstrang ship. “So, without a second thought, I-I tried to illuminate my surroundings and was adjusting to the bright light when seconds later…something, no, I’m sorry, _someone_ , broke the silence.” I heard Harry take a sharp intake of breath.

“He, uh, petrified me. ‘ _Petrificus Totalus_ ’.” I copied the breathy, haunting way it had been cast. “His voice was so coarse, like it’d been worn, calloused from years of screaming. It was then I became terrified. I couldn’t move…I couldn’t even see him. He was behind me. Like a predator stalking its prey. ‘ _Just how I like them, quiet.’_ ” I fought back the tears that threatened to form. “I can still remember every word, every detail. I can’t get it out of my head!’

I bit my lip as the first tear slid down my cheek. Harry closed the space between us and grabbed me, wrapping me in a warm embrace. The thought to resist didn’t even cross my mind as I settled into his chest. “H-he touched me. He started at my waist. His hands were so cold, you know, like ice.” The tears were falling freely now. “His hands slid down and stopped just at the tops of my jeans…He was rubbing these awful circles on my hipbones when he m-moaned.” Harry hugged me tighter. “He was sniffing me, he shoved his nose into my hair. And then he said, ‘Don’t w-worry, lassie, it’ll be over faster than you think.’”

“No,” Harry breathed.

“No, he never got the chance. His hands had just slithered an inch into my p-pants when he stopped and retreated. I heard him scuttle away but I was still frozen and the light from my wand was fading. I was so afraid. I’d never felt as terrified in my life. Then I heard the footsteps returning. He called me by my name and I wondered how he had found it out. I asked him to just kill me…kill me.” 

“No.” Harry repeated.

“He was confused and lit his wand before coming into my line of vision. That was when I realised that it wasn’t the man anymore, they didn’t even sound the same.” I inhaled. “It was Cedric.”

“Oh.”

“He asked how this had happened and if I’d been hurt. I said not really but I knew he didn’t believe me. He stayed with me until the spell wore off and you know the rest from there.”

“Hazel,” Harry whispered. His embrace loosened and I was momentarily lamenting the loss of touch when he gently grabbed my chin and turned it to face him directly. I mentally hardened myself for the look of disgust I was bound to see but I was met with the concern and worry. My heart shattered. He wasn’t looking at me like I was damaged goods, like I’d feared. “I’m so sorry that happened.”

“What do you have to be sorry about?” I asked, wiping my remnant tears away. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I did, Hazel. Don’t you see? I ran. I didn’t stop and check that we were all together. If I had, then,” He sighed. “Then you wouldn’t have been in that situation.”

“Harry, you did what any logical person would have done.” I sat up. Harry’s arm was still around me but I had moved out of his delicate hold of my face. “Please, don’t blame yourself.”

“I should’ve protected you.”

“You barely even knew me!”

“Still.” He muttered.

“No,” it was my turn to touch his face now. “don’t even let that thought cross your mind. You didn’t know that would happen.”

He raised his free hand and rubbed away an errant tear. “And neither did you.”

It was like I had been shot in the chest. Although I’d never admit it to his face, he was right, I didn’t know that would happen. But the fact remained that I blamed myself. If not for the incident itself, then for the stupidity of my not being able to bloody get over it.

With the way we were holding one another, we were forced to look face to face. I wanted to turn away but…I couldn’t. I was close enough that I could count each eyelash if I truly desired. I needed to look away.

_Look away, Hazel. Don’t. Look._

My eyes traveled down the slope of his straight nose, jumped off the tip, and landed at his pink lips. I tried to look away from there too but struggled even more than just seconds earlier. A quick glance up showed that he had noticed my pause and was looking towards the bottom of my face as well.

I swallowed. What’s happenin—


	11. Mesonoxian Meetings

A large splash on the Great Lake caused both of us to jump apart and look to the water. A large tentacle had emerged from the deep blue waters and caught a large bird that had landed on the surface. In a second, there wouldn’t have been any proof that there’d ever been a bird if it wasn’t for the smattering of feathers that remained.

The warmth and comfort that had felt so solid just seconds before had now vanished. Harry and I now sat about a foot apart and we were both still looking at the lake. I couldn’t muster the courage to look at him, afraid of what I’d find. Had we been about to—

“Hey, Hazel?” The softness in his voice sent a slow shiver from the base of my neck to top of my skull.

“Yeah, Haz?” I focused on the lake still, trying to remember how to breathe.

“I want you to know…” he paused, and the brief moment of silence caused a small spurt of anxiety to course through me. “that I’m here for you.”

“Same goes for you.” I dared to look at him. “Come on, let go, I think you should write to Sirius. You've got to tell him what's happened. He asked you to keep him posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts…It's almost as if he expected something like this to happen. I have some parchment and a quill out with me in my bag if yo-"

“Come off it,” Harry said, looking around to check that we couldn't be overheard, but the grounds were quite deserted. "He came back to the country just because my scar twinged. He'll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell him someone's entered me in the Triwizard Tournament -"

"He'd want you to tell him," I said sternly. "He's going to find out anyway. "

"How?"

"Harry, this isn't going to be kept quiet," I said, very serious now. The last half hour of tension-filled moments was the last thing on my mind now. "This tournament's famous, and you're famous. I'll be really surprised if there isn't anything in the Daily Prophet about you competing. You're already in half the books about The Dark Lord, you know, and Sirius would probably rather hear it from you."

"Okay, okay, I'll write to him," Harry said, throwing his last piece of toast into the lake. He stood and reached out a hand to help me up as well. I took it gratefully but tried to not read too into what this all meant. For a moment, we watched the toast floating before a large tentacle rose out of the water again and scooped it beneath the surface. We began our trek back to the castle.

“Whose owl am I going to use?" Harry said as we climbed the stairs. "He told me not to use Hedwig again."

"You can borrow Hermes, he’s been quite stir-crazy lately.”

“Thanks,” Harry said with a smile that caused my thoughts to momentarily lapse. 

* * *

Harry read his nearly completed letter aloud:

> Dear Sirius,
> 
> You told me to keep you posted on what's happening at Hogwarts, so here goes - I don't know if you've heard, but the Triwizard Tournament's happening this year and on Saturday night I got picked as a fourth champion. I don't who put my name in the Goblet of Fire, because I didn't. The other Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff.

He paused at this point, thinking. I had just opened my mouth to ask what was wrong when he simply dipped his quill back into the ink bottle and wrote,

> “Hope you're okay, and Buckbeak – Harry

"Finished," he said, getting to his feet and brushing straw off his robes. At this, Hedwig, his beautiful snowy owl, fluttered down onto his shoulder and held out her leg. I spotted Hermes perched not far from where Hedwig had been and beckoned him.

"I can't use you," Harry told her, looking at me for help. "I've got to use Hermes."

Hedwig gave a very loud hoot and took off so suddenly that her talons cut into his shoulder. I almost smiled but decided that Harry had already been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours.

Hedwig kept her back to Harry all the time he was tying his letter to Hermes’ leg. When he flew off, Harry reached out to stroke Hedwig, but she clicked her beak furiously and soared up into the rafters out of reach.

"First Ron, then you," Harry said angrily. "This isn't my fault."

I placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping that it gave him at least a little comfort.

If I had thought that matters would improve once everyone got used to the idea of Harry being champion, the following day showed me how mistaken I was. He could no longer avoid the rest of the school once he was back at lessons - and it was clear that the rest of the school, just like the Gryffindors, thought Harry had entered himself for the tournament. Unlike the Gryffindors, however, they did not seem impressed.

The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold toward the whole lot of us. One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that Harry had stolen their champion's glory. Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley, with whom Harry normally spoke to during lessons, did not talk to him even though they were repotting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray - though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grip and smacked him hard in the face. Ron still wasn't talking to Harry either. Hermione sat between them, making very forced conversation, but though both answered her normally, they avoided making eye contact with each other. Harry confided at the end of that day that even Professor Sprout seemed distant with him - but then, she was Head of Hufflepuff House.

The walk towards Hagrid’s Hut was quiet as Hermione walked with Ron. She had tired herself out nagging at Ron during the whole of our Herbology lesson and was now trying to defeat him with pointed looks.

When we had arrived at Hagrid’s, I sat down onto a particularly large pumpkin. I looked up at Harry and his sad, green eyes and patted the empty space next to me. We had barely spoken since our visit to the Owlery the day before. I could feel some sort of tension between us, weird tension that was not necessarily awkward. I struggled to make continuous eye contact with him in fear of blurting something out.

"Ah, look, boys, it's the champion.”

Predictably, Malfoy arrived at Hagrid's cabin with his familiar sneer firmly in place.

"Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt he's going to be around much longer…Half the Triwizard champions have died…how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter? Ten minutes into the first task's my bet."

My hands, which had been under my cloak to gain some warmth, firmly grasped my wand, ready for what was coming next. Crabbe and Goyle guffawed sycophantically, but Malfoy had to stop there because Hagrid emerged from the back of his cabin balancing a teetering tower of crates, each containing a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt. To our collective horror, Hagrid proceeded to explain that the reason the skrewts had been killing one another was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for each student to fix a leash on a skrewt and take it for a short walk. The only good thing about this plan was that it distracted Malfoy completely.

"Take this thing for a walk?" he repeated in disgust, staring into one of the boxes. "And where exactly are we supposed to fix the leash? Around the sting, the blasting end, or the sucker?"

"Roun' the middle," Hagrid said, demonstrating. "Er - yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like. Harry - you come here an' help me with this big one…"

I realized as the class wrangled up their skrewts that Hagrid's real intention, however, was to talk to Harry away from the rest of the class. He waited until everyone else had set off with their skrewts, then turned to Harry and said, very seriously, "So - yer competin', Harry. In the tournament. School champion."

I made sure that I was within hearing distance as I “walked” my sleepy skrewt.

"One of the champions," Harry corrected him.

Hagrid's beetle-black eyes looked very anxious under his wild eyebrows.

"No idea who put yeh in fer it, Harry?"

“You believe I didn't do it, then?" Harry asked.

"Course I do," Hagrid grunted. "Yeh say it wasn' you, an' I believe yeh - an' Dumbledore believes yer, an' all. "

"Wish I knew who did do it," Harry said bitterly.

The pair of them looked out over the lawn; the class was widely scattered now, and all in great difficulty. The skrewts were now over three feet long, and extremely powerful. No longer shell-less and colorless, they had developed a kind of thick, grayish, shiny armor. They looked like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs- but still without recognizable heads or eyes. They had become immensely strong and very hard to control.

I waved from smiled at them. Harry returned the smile and gestured for me to walk over.

“Look like they're havin' fun, don' they?" Hagrid said happily. I assumed he was talking about the skrewts, because my classmates certainly weren't; every now and then, with an alarming bang, one of the skrewts' ends would explode, causing it to shoot forward several yards, and more than one person was being dragged along on their stomach, trying desperately to get back on their feet.

"Ah, I don' know, Harry," Hagrid sighed suddenly, looking back down at him with a worried expression on his face. "School champion…everythin' seems ter happen ter you, doesn' it?"

Harry didn't answer. Hagrid wasn’t wrong, everything did seem to happen to him…that was more or less what Hermione had explained to me, and that was the reason, according to her, that Ron was no longer talking to him.

“It’s not like he puts it upon himself,” I said. Hagrid paused and regarded me curiously. His eyes traveled from Harry to me to Harry and back to me again.

Beneath the beard that took up nearly half of his face, I thought I saw the briefest of smiles before Hagrid said, “Aye, yer’ righ’, Hazel. We’ll jus’ av to make sure nothin’ else happens.

The next few days were some of the tensest I had had at Hogwarts. Hermione continued to stay by Ron’s side to not only keep him company, but to also try and convince him that Harry didn’t actually put his name in the goblet. She’d occasionally meet up with us when Ron had been able to elude her. I stayed with Harry, trying to shield him from mean looks and comments as much as possible. When people would talk about him as we passed by, I’d strike up conversation to drown out their mean words. When they stared at him, I’d casually cause a something from the walls to fall down or murmured _Rictusempra_ as I pointed my wand at the nearest person as a distraction. The tickling spell was my preferred method, I liked that for the next minute or so, the person would be laughing so hard that I could slip Harry out of the corridor before anyone remembered that he had been there.

I could slightly understand the Hufflepuffs' attitude; they had their own champion to support. The Slytherins’ had been acting just as smarmy as they had been before Halloween. I had hoped the Ravenclaws might have found it in their hearts to support him as much as Cedric, with my brother leading the charge. I was wrong, however. Most Ravenclaws seemed to think that he had been desperate to earn himself a bit more fame by tricking the goblet into accepting his name. My brother’s friends believed the truth, but it was hard to convince even the most logical of Ravenclaws the flaw in their theory.

Harry, in a sleepy stupor one night, had groggily expressed that he thought that the reason everyone hated him was because Cedric looked the part of a champion so much more than he did.

Cedric seemed to be taking the newfound surge of attention in stride. On Thursday, as Harry and I crossed the Entrance Hall, I saw the same sixth-year girls who had been so keen to get Krum's autograph begging Cedric to sign their school bags. From the briefest of glances we shared as I passed, he seemed flattered by the attention but slightly uncomfortable.

Meanwhile there was no reply from Sirius, which caused Harry to become an even greater bundle of nerves. Hedwig was refusing to come anywhere near him, Professor Trelawney was predicting his death with even more certainty than usual, and he did so badly at Summoning Charms in Professor Flitwick's class that he was given extra homework - the only person to get any, apart from Neville.

"It's really not that difficult, Harry," Hermione tried to reassure him as we left Flitwick's class - she had been making objects zoom across the room to her all lesson, as though she were some sort of weird magnet for board dusters, wastepaper baskets, and lunascopes. "You just weren't concentrating properly -"

"Wonder why that was," Harry said darkly as Cedric Diggory walked past, surrounded by a large group of simpering girls, all of whom looked at Harry as though he were a particularly large Blast-Ended Skrewt. "Still - never mind, eh? Double Potions to look forward to this afternoon…"

I squeezed his forearm when I fell into step with him, hoping it would give him a sort of comfort. I could feel his arms relax a little before I let go.

Double Potions, I had come to learn, was always a horrible experience, but these days it was nothing short of torture. Being shut in a dungeon for an hour and a half with Snape and the Slytherins, all of whom seemed determined to punish Harry as much as possible for daring to become school champion, was about the most unpleasant thing I could imagine. He had already struggled through one Friday's worth, with me sitting next to him intoning "ignore them, ignore them, ignore them" under my breath.

When he and I arrived at Snape's dungeon after lunch, we found the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes. For one wild moment I thought they were S.P.E.W. badges - then I saw that they all bore the same message, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dimly lit underground passage: _SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY - THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!_

“Like them, Potter?" Malfoy said loudly as we approached. "And this isn't all they do - look!"

He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green: _POTTER STINKS!_

The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message _POTTER STINKS_ was shining brightly all around Harry. I could see his neck and face start to become red.

"Oh, very funny," I said sarcastically to Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone, "really witty.”

I turned and looked at Malfoy directly, “Did you come up with that yourselves or did your sycophantic father help you with that?"

I could hear from behind me a few of my fellow Gryffindors choke back a laugh. I glanced quickly and saw that Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sticking up for Harry either. Hermione stepped to stand beside me.

"Want one, Granger?" Malfoy said, holding out a badge to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see; don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."

The anger and rashness I had tried to contain, seemed to burst through a dam in my chest. I had reached for my wand before I'd thought what I was doing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that people all around had scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor.

Harry was faster and had pulled out his wand and pointed it at Malfoy before I could.

"Harry!" Hermione said warningly.

"Go on, then, Potter," Malfoy said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you now - do it, if you've got the guts -"

For a split second, they looked into each other's eyes, then, at exactly the same time, both acted.

" _Funnunculus_!" Harry yelled.

" _Densaugeo_!" screamed Malfoy.

Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in midair, and ricocheted off at angles - Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Malfoy's hit Hermione. Goyle bellowed and put his hands to his nose, where great ugly boils were springing up - Hermione, whimpering in panic, was clutching her mouth.

"Hermione!"

Ron had hurried forward to see what was wrong with her; Harry turned and saw Ron dragging Hermione's hand away from her face. It wasn't a pretty sight. Hermione's front teeth - already larger than average - were now growing at an alarming rate; she was looking more and more like a beaver as her teeth elongated, past her bottom lip, toward her chin - panic-stricken, she felt them and let out a terrified cry.

"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice.

Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain."

"Potter attacked me, sir -"

"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted. I put a hand on his shoulder just in case he let his emotions get the better of him.

"- and he hit Goyle - look -"

Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi. If the situation weren’t so tense, I would have let out a laugh.

"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly.

"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!" 

He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth - she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back.

Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears, she turned on her heel and ran, ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight.

It was lucky, perhaps, that both Harry and Ron started shouting at Snape at the same time; lucky their voices echoed so much in the stone corridor, for in the confused din, it was impossible for him to hear exactly what they were calling him. He got the gist, however.

"Let's see," he said, in his silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."

I sputtered, unable to form coherent words. I knew that Snape was an asshole, but damn. The only thing that held me back was the threat of more lost points for Gryffindor. Snape was being vindictive for the sake of it. Although I understood that student fights called for punishment, Snape had been truly unfair. Both sides were at fault.

I was brought out of my reverie when I realized that Harry and Ron had begun to step forward. Harry passed Snape, walked with Ron to the back of the dungeon, and slammed his bag down onto the table. Ron was shaking with anger too - for a moment, it felt as though everything was back to normal between them, but then Ron turned and sat down with Dean and Seamus instead, leaving Harry alone at his table. I quietly sat on the stool next to him and pulled a Sugar Quill out of my bag. I gestured it towards Harry but he merely shook his head and looked away.

On the other side of the dungeon, Malfoy turned his back on Snape and pressed his badge, smirking. _POTTER STINKS_ flashed once more across the room.

I made a mental reminder to find something I could do to get back at Malfoy. “Accidentally” pour orange juice on him during breakfast? Trip him in the hallways? Throw a Blast-Ended Skrewt into the Slytherin Common Room after dinne—

"Antidotes!" Snape said, looking around at us all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one…"

Snape's eyes met Harry's, and I shuddered to think of what Snape was planning. Was Snape going to poison him? I imagined picking up my cauldron and walking to the front of the class and bringing it down on Snape's greasy head – And then a knock on the dungeon door burst in on my thoughts.

It was Colin Creevey; he edged into the room, beaming at Harry, and walked up to Snape's desk at the front of the room.

“Yes?" Snape said curtly. He sneered down at the Third Year and I could see him step back a little in fear.

“Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs. " Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face.

"Potter has another hour of Potions to complete," Snape said coldly. "He will come upstairs when this class is finished."

Colin went pink.

"Sir - sir, Mr. Bagman wants him," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs…"

I could feel Harry cringe next to me and I briefly glanced at Ron to see his reaction, but Ron was staring determinedly at the ceiling.

"Very well, very well," Snape snapped. "Potter, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote."

"Please, sir - he's got to take his things with him," squeaked Cohn. "All the champions…"

“Very well!” said Snape. "Potter - take your bag and get out of my sight!"

Harry swung his bag over his shoulder, got up, and headed for the door. I looked up and found him giving me a meaningful look as he moved further and further away. As he walked through the Slytherin desks, _POTTER STINKS_ flashed at him from every direction.

When the door shut behind him, Snape began to speak very curtly. “Now, go, start your potions.”

I looked around the classroom and resigned myself for being alone that class period. I didn’t know why there was an aching pit in my stomach as the thought crossed my mind. I pulled out my textbook and set to work. I was fifteen minutes into my potion when I heard a commotion from a few tables away.

Neville’s potion was emitting a black, acrid smoke that permeated through the classroom. Snape looked up from his desk and simply muttered, “Five points from Gryffindor,” before he returned to his book.

I watched as Neville stared at his potion, deep in thought. Under the guise of grabbing another potion ingredient, I passed by Neville and asked him to grab his things and go work with me.

“A-are you sure? I’m okay…” He said, looking back down at his tar-like concoction.

“Neville, c’mon.” I said, grabbing his cauldron and walking it over.

I spent the rest of the period helping him restart his potion and finish mine. In the end, Neville’s potion was perfectly sufficient. Snape had no choice but to award him the minimum amount of points to pass.

When class was dismissed, Snape called Ron to the front and dictated his and Harry’s detention. Neville, who was in better spirits than he had been an hour before, was quickly packing his things.

“Thank you so much, Hazel.” He smiled at me. “If you ever need anything, just ask! You saved my arse!”

“It’s nothing, Neville,” I said, packing my things much more slowly.

“See ya at dinner!” He called as he walked out of the classroom.

“Tomorrow night, _in here_ ,” Snape sneered.

“Right, Professor.” Ron said monotonously and walked away.

I trailed after him, giving myself a small buffer as I followed. When we were about to leave the dungeons, I grabbed Ron’s arm and pulled him into an empty hallway.

“What the fuc—” He sputtered, eyes wide. “Oh, Hazel.”

“Don’t sound _too_ excited to see me.” I said sarcastically.

Ron and I, up to this point, were still speaking to each other since we weren’t fighting. But the conversations were always brief and to the point. He seemed somewhat annoyed with me because I believed Harry.

“I’m incredibly excited.” He sighed, “Did you need something?”

“Yeah, I need to talk to you.”

“About what, exactly?”

“You know what,” I said, staring up at him.

“Well, I don’t want to talk about it. There’s nothing else to say.”

“Ron, you are a smart person. I know you don’t _actually_ believe that Harry entered this competition on his own. Like I said before, you know him better than I do, when has he even volunteered for something like this? When has he asked for any of this?” I pointed at a passing Slytherin student wearing a _Potter Stinks!_ badge. 

“You don’t get it, Hazel, you never will.” He maneuvered around me and nearly sprinted out of the dungeons.

* * *

When I entered the Hospital Wing, I immediately found Hermione laying on a bed close to the door. Her eyes were closed but I noticed that her teeth weren’t protruding from her mouth anymore.

“Hermione?” I said as I neared her.

Her eyes shot open and she smiled up at me. I noticed immediately that her teeth were obviously shortened back to a normal size, but they appeared just a tad bit smaller than they had been before.

"Hazel!” She smiled brightly considering what had just happened to her.

“Hermione,” I replied. “Your teeth are back to normal.”

“They are!” She beamed.

I paused for a moment before I said, “You had them made a little smaller, didn’t you.” I meant to ask it as a question but it came out as a statement.

Her smile faltered, “You noticed.”

“There was nothing wrong with them before.”

“I’ve always been self-conscious of it,” she looked away from me, embarrassed, “I thought, why not do it now? Although, Mum and Dad will kill me when they find out.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“They’re Muggle dentists, they’ve always told me that my teeth are perfectly normal and that I should never change them.”

“They were,” I said, “but what’s done is done, I guess, and you look beautiful either way.”

Hermione smiled, “Thank you, Hazel.”

“There’s nothing to thank, I’m just saying what’s true.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she reached for my hand, “I know we’ve only known each other for a short while…but I truly appreciate your friendship.”

I could feel heat rising to my cheeks. As much as I wanted to be friends with Hermione, I couldn’t forget that this could all be pulled out from underneath me after the school year. The pain of leaving people behind wasn’t something I could bear to feel again. I wanted to say as much to Hermione but struggled to find the words.

She continued, “I love Harry and Ron, but sometimes they don’t understand girl things. They think I’m acting hysterical.”

“I know how that feels.” I replied after swallowing the lump in my throat. “Michael and I be connected as twins but there are some things that fly over his stupid head.”

Hermione smiled warmly, “Exactly. Anyway, you should head down to dinner. Don’t let all the Weasleys devour the food before you get the chance.”

“What about you?” I asked.

“Madame Pomfrey wants me to stay overnight just in case my teeth start growing again.”

“Oh, I see.” I said, remembering that I was going to be alone again.

I knew that I wanted to isolate myself, to prevent the inevitable pain of leaving, but that didn’t stop my body from craving companionship.

“Oh!” Hermione suddenly cried out.

“What?” My eyes widened. “Are you in pain? Are they growing again?”

“No,” she smiled apologetically, “I suddenly remembered to ask you if Professor Snape assigned any homework.”

I rolled my eyes and smirked, same old Hermione. “No, he still seemed miffed from before class. He had us make antidotes and then merely dismissed us after class.”

“Oh, that’s good. I didn’t miss too much then.”

“Nope.” I stood up. “I guess I’ll be heading down. Do you need anything before I go?”

“I’m fine, really,” Hermione snuggled into her blanket. “Now go, eat.”

* * *

The plethora of food in front of me didn’t appear as appetizing as usual. My first thought was that I had finally gotten sick of the food…but that didn’t feel right. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, the lack of company seemed to damper the flavor of the food. Ron was sat with Dean and Seamus, continuing his idiotic protest of his best friend. I tried looking for Michael when I came into the Great Hall but found out that he had been asked by Professor Flitwick to help him with a project. I would have even settled for Fred and George, but they were nowhere to be seen. I pushed my food around my plate with a fork as I watched the other Hogwarts students eat their dinner. I was just about to stand up and head for Gryffindor Tower when a familiar pairing of dark hair and green eyes entered the hall. He seemed worn out as he glanced around the hall, looking for _something_.

His gaze landed on me and he offered a small, genuine smile. The smile caused a small shiver to travel through me, making me twitch a little at the feeling. Luckily, Harry didn’t see that as he was too focused on maneuvering through the sea of students.

“Hey Hazel,” he greeted wearily. As soon as he plopped onto the bench, he began piling up food onto his plate.

“Hiya, Harry,” I said, taking a bite of my fried chicken. “You all right?”

“I’m okay,” he said between bites of food. “I’ll explain more later.”

We finished our dinner and made our way back up to the Tower. Harry led me through a passageway to avoid some of the gawkers that followed Harry wherever he went. When we exited on the Seventh Floor, we made a beeline towards the Fat Lady.

“ _Apple Turnover_.” I stated, remembering the new password a Sixth-Year prefect had passed on to me.

“Come in,” the Fat Lady said, nibbling on a pie.

“Do you want to do our homework together?” I asked, looking up at Harry who glowed in the firelight.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He said, putting his bag down onto a table. “Let me grab a few extra quills from the dorm. I think I accidentally crushed mine earlier.”

“Go on,” I bit my lip, “though, if you take too long I might just leave you to yourself.”

Harry smiled warmly and put his hands on my shoulders, “I might learn _Accio_ just to get you to come down here again.”

“Ha!” I laughed, “I’d like to see you try.”

With one last look he raced up the stairs, leaving a blur of dark robes in his wake. 

There was an easiness that I had with Harry that I had never expected. As much as I had tried to close myself off to Hogwarts, I found that it was somehow burrowing its way into my heart.

 _Still_ , I reminded myself, _don’t get too comfortable_.

I collapsed into the chair closest to me and glanced around the common room. I could spy Fred and George in the opposite corner with one of their inventions displayed before them. A smile played across my lips before I could stop it. They were so inventive, much more intelligent than I initially believed them to be. In my brief time of knowing them, I had been introduced to some of their creations. My favourite at the moment was their Headless Hat. Though still in the rudimentary stages, the fact that the twins had been able to enchant the hats _that_ well only spoke to their genius.

It had been a good five minutes since Harry had disappeared and if he wasn’t back in another five, the chance to finally enter the boys’ dorm had presented itself.

Just as I had finished that thought, I saw a brief flash of red hair cross the common room and hop out the portrait hole. Where Ron was going was anyone’s guess, especially at this time of day.

A moment after Ron’s dramatic entrance and exit, Harry stomped down the stairs, his brows creased together. He appeared to be lost in thought as he walked closer to me, a piece of parchment in his right hand.

“Everything alright, Haz?” I asked, hoping that the use of his nickname would shock him back to reality.

“What?” Harry said, his green eyes suddenly clearing. “Oh, sorry, I just had a tense interaction with Ron and…sorry.”

“S’all right, Harry,” I said, biting in the corner of my mouth. I didn’t know how to continue.

“Anyway,” Harry said, shaking his hand that held a crinkled piece of parchment. “I’ve just got word back from…” he lowered his voice, “Sirius.”

My eyebrows shot upwards and I urged, “Go on, read it aloud.”

Harry nodded and unfurled the roll

"Harry –" he began in a hushed tone,

> I can't say everything I would like to in a letter, it's too risky in case the owl is intercepted - we need to talk face-to-face. Can you ensure that you are alone by the fire in Gryffindor Tower at one o'clock in the morning on the 22nd of November?
> 
> I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself and while you're around Dumbledore and Moody I don't think anyone will be able to hurt you. However, someone seems to be having a good try. Entering you in that tournament would have been very risky, especially right under Dumbledore's nose.
> 
> Be on the watch, Harry. I still want to hear about anything unusual. Let me know about the 22nd of November as quickly as you can.
> 
> Sirius

Harry finished with a grin. The letter from his godfather had lifted his mood greatly and for that I was appreciative.

“I-I should write back now!” he said, standing up. 

“We can go now, before curfew.” I pulled out a piece of parchment and quill. “Quick!”

Harry hurriedly scribbled, his writing barely better than chicken scratch at that moment.

> Sirius,
> 
> I’ll be sure to watch out for myself. I will be beside the common room fire when it’s time.
> 
> Harry

* * *

In the fortnight that followed, the shock and awe that had taken over the school had quieted down in a sense. But the fear and anxiety that had taken residence in my stomach had multiplied tenfold. The First Task was drawing steadily nearer and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread.

After writing back to Sirius, Harry had broken down to me what had transpired during the Weighing of the Wands. He had been fully traumatized by his interactions with the reporter Rita Skeeter.

I tried to distract myself in the meantime by helping Harry come up with plans on how to force out any stragglers in the common room on the 22nd of November. He and I talked endlessly about what we could do, from binding anyone who came downstairs – which Hermione had vetoed— to setting off the school owls into the dormitory (admittedly, we came up with that on a night where we were up late doing homework). We decided that in the worst-case scenario, we were going to drop a bag of Dungbombs (courtesy of the Weasley twins), but we hoped we wouldn't have to resort to that - Filch would skin us alive.

The worst thing to happen within those days was when Rita Skeeter had published her piece about the Triwizard Tournament, and it had turned out to be not so much a report on the tournament as a highly colored life story of Harry. Much of the front page had been given over to a picture of Harry; the article (continuing on pages two, six, and seven) had been all about Harry, the names of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions (misspelled) had been squashed into the last line of the article, and poor Cedric hadn't been mentioned at all.

The article had appeared ten days ago and I still got a sick, burning feeling of anger in my stomach every time I thought about it. Rita Skeeter had reported him apparently saying an awful lot of things that he couldn't remember ever saying in his life, let alone in that broom cupboard.

“I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now…Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it…I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me…”

Rita Skeeter had gone even further than transforming his "er's" into long, sickly sentences; she had interviewed other people about him too.

“Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hazel Masterson, a stunningly pretty Pure-Blood girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school.”

Reading that last part had nearly caused me to jump the Black Lake in embarrassment. First of all, where did Colin Creevey get his information? I could not deny that we spent a lot of time together, more so since the events of Halloween, it was true. But I was neither “stunningly pretty”, nor was I a top student. Harry, even less so. I cared about grades and school but nowhere near to the extent of Hermione.

Since the day the article came out, I had to countdown from one hundred every time I saw Colin. Failure to do so would not bode well for small boy.

From the moment the article had appeared, Harry had had to endure people - Slytherins, mainly - quoting it at him as he passed and making sneering comments.

"Want a hanky, Potter, in case you start crying in Transfiguration?"

"Since when have you been one of the top students in the school, Potter? Or is this a school you and Longbottom have set up together?"

On our way out of a class with the Slytherins, I “accidentally” used a spell to trip a smaller Slytherin student that caused a domino effect on the rest of his housemates. I walked out casually, as if nothing had happened, and ran away laughing as soon as I was out of sight of the classroom. Harry jogged behind me, a large grin brightening up his face.

On a particularly bad day for Harry, I restrained from saying much to him in case I made things worse or pushed a button, but that played to his detriment a few days before the First Task.

"Hey - Harry!"

“Yeah, that's right!" Harry found himself shouting as he wheeled around in the corridor, seemingly having had just about enough. "I've just been crying my eyes out over my dead mum, and I'm just off to do a bit more…”

"No – it was just – you dropped your quill. "

It was Cho, a pretty Sixth-Year Ravenclaw that Michael had introduced me to. I could see colour rising in Harry’s face.

“Oh - right - sorry," he muttered, taking the quill back.

“Er…good luck on Tuesday," she said. "I really hope you do well." She turned to me, “Hiya, Hazel.”

“Hey Cho,” I responded, fully aware of the awkward tension.

“Bye.” She said before she rushed off.

I carefully grabbed the quill from Harry’s hand and tossed it into his bag.

I wanted to ask him what that was all about…but I didn’t feel like it was any of my business. That didn’t stop a weird feeling to enter my stomach, though.

I had come in for my fair share of unpleasantness too, but I hadn't yet started yelling at innocent bystanders…keyword, yet.

"Stunningly pretty? Her?" Pansy Parkinson had shrieked the first time she had come face-to-face with me after Rita's article had appeared. "What was she judging against - a chipmunk?"

“Ignore it," I said in a dignified voice, holding my head in the air and stalking past the sniggering Slytherin girls as though I couldn't hear them. "Just ignore it."

Michael had been walking with us that time and turned to Pansy, “I’ve heard you mention that you think I’m – what was the phrase I heard you use? – oh yeah, ‘ _absolutely gorgeous_ ’.”

Pansy flushed a deep magenta.

“I don’t think I need to remind you, but Hazel is my _twin_ sister, so if you think I’m ‘gorgeous’, so is she.”

Pansy sputtered, “Y-you imbecile, I-I never said that.”

Michael chose to respond by walking away, apparently having decided that this conversation was over.

“You really didn’t need to do that, Mike,” I said when we were ways away from Pansy and her gaggle of honking geese.

“What are brothers for?” He asked. “See you both at dinner.” Michael turned on his heel and headed towards Ravenclaw Tower.

Since Hermione and I been caught between Ron and Harry’s feud, she was furious with the pair of them; she went from one to the other, trying to force them to talk to each other, but Harry was adamant: He would talk to Ron again only if Ron admitted that Harry hadn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire and apologized for calling him a liar.

"I didn't start this," Harry said stubbornly. "It's his problem."

“You miss him!" Hermione said impatiently. "And I know he misses you -"

“Miss him?" Harry said. "I don't miss him…"

Any bystander could tell that this was a downright lie. Harry had confessed to me privately one night that all the hanging around in the library _studying_ with Hermione was a torture similar to being waterboarded.

Harry still hadn't mastered Summoning Charms, he seemed to have developed something of a block about them, and Hermione insisted that learning the theory would help. We consequently spent a lot of time poring over books during lunchtimes.

Oddly enough, Viktor Krum was in the library an awful lot too, and I wondered what he was up to. Was he studying, or was he looking for things to help him through the First Task? Didn’t he have books to read from on the Durmstrang ship? Hermione often complained about Krum being there - not that he ever bothered us - but because groups of giggling girls often turned up to spy on him from behind bookshelves, and Hermione found the noise distracting.

“He's not even good-looking!" she muttered angrily, glaring at Krum's sharp profile. "They only like him because he's famous! They wouldn't look twice at him if he couldn't do that Wonky-Faint thing -"

“’The lady doth protest too much’,” I stage whispered.

“Wronski Feint," Harry said, through gritted teeth.

It is a strange thing, but when you are dreading something and would give anything to slow down time, it has a disobliging habit of speeding up. The days until the First Task seemed to slip by as though someone had fixed the clocks to work at double speed. The feeling of barely controlled panic was with me wherever I went, as ever-present as the snide comments about the Daily Prophet article. I worried for both Harry and Cedric, the idiot.

That Friday, he and I crossed paths in the Entrance Hall, where he had grabbed my wrist gently and pulled me aside.

“Can I expect you to be wearing yellow and black on Tuesday?” Cedric asked. He had leaned the side of his body against the wall and I, all of sudden, struggled to focus.

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked.

He smiled, “Have you already forgotten your duties as the head of my fan club?”

I laughed, hard, “Get over yourself, Diggory. And anyway, I think that Seventh-Year Ravenclaw…Miranda something?...has already declared to your posse that she has claim on you.”

Cedric laughed, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, I hope?”

“Tuesday?” I said, “I’ll be busy that day.”

“Oh really? Doing what, perhaps?”

“Anything but cheer you on,” I said in a light tone to show that I was joking around.

Cedric grabbed at his chest, “I’m hurt!”

He let go of my wrist. I hadn’t noticed that he hadn’t let removed his grip in the time that we had spoken. My wrist now felt like it was burning, and I could feel the burn rising to my face.

Cedric let out a small laugh, “I’ll let you head off to your first class. I wouldn’t be a good Prefect if I make you late.”

“No one ever said you were!” I cried out as I ran away from whatever had just happened. 

* * *

On the Saturday before the First Task, all students in the Third Year and above were permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade. Hermione told Harry that it would do him good to get away from the castle for a bit, and Harry didn't need much persuasion in the end.

"What about Ron, though?" he said. "Don't you want to go with him?"

“Oh…well…” Hermione went slightly pink and I perked up. "I thought we might meet up with him in the Three Broomsticks…"

"No," Harry said flatly.

“Oh Harry, this is so stupid -"

"I'll come, but I'm not meeting Ron, and I'm wearing my Invisibility Cloak."

“Oh, all right then…" Hermione snapped, "but I hate talking to you in that cloak, I never know if I'm looking at you or not."

So Harry put on his Invisibility Cloak in the dormitory, went back downstairs, and together he, Hermione, and I set off for Hogsmeade.

Although he was under the Cloak, I could somehow feel Harry’s presence no matter where he stood. I tried poking him where I thought his sides were and was met with a small burst of laughter. I watched other students walking past them as they entered the village, most of them sporting _Support Cedric Diggory!_ badges, but no horrible remarks came his way for a change, and nobody was quoting that stupid article.

"People keep looking at me now," Hermione said grumpily as we came out of Honeydukes Sweetshop later, eating large cream-filled chocolates. "They think I'm talking to myself."

“Don't move your lips so much then. And you know that I can hear you, you could just pretend you’re talking to Hazel."

"Come on, please just take off your cloak for a bit, no one's going to bother you here."

"Oh yeah?" Harry said. "Look behind you."

Rita Skeeter and a photographer had just emerged from the Three Broomsticks pub. Talking in low voices, they passed right by Hermione and me without hooking at us. Somehow, I could feel that Harry had moved to the side to stop Rita Skeeter from hitting him with her crocodile-skin handbag. When they were gone, I heard Harry’s disembodied voice say, "She's staying in the village. I bet she's coming to watch the first task."

As he said it, my stomach flooded with a wave of molten panic.

"She's gone," Hermione said, looking right through Harry toward the end of the street. "Why don't we go and have a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks, it's a bit cold, isn't it? You don't have to talk to Ron!" she added irritably, interpreting his silence.

The Three Broomsticks was packed, mainly with Hogwarts students enjoying their free afternoon, but also with a variety of magical people I had never seen before. I had read that as Hogsmeade was the only all-wizard village in Britain, it was a bit of a haven for creatures like hags, who were not as adept as wizards at disguising themselves.

I assumed that it was very hard to move through crowds in the Invisibility Cloak, in case you accidentally trod on someone, which tended to lead to awkward questions. So I whispered, “Harry?”

In a volume that I could just barely hear over the roar of the full pub, Harry said, “Yeah?”

I slightly extended the crook of my elbow out, “Hold on to me, I’ll be your guide and guard.”

I didn’t hear him reply, if he even did so, but I did feel a gentle grip grasp my arm. I edged Harry and I slowly toward a spare table in the corner while Hermione went to buy drinks. On our way through the pub, I spotted Ron, who was sitting with Fred, George, and Lee Jordan. Resisting the urge to give Ron a good hard poke in the back of the head for his foolishness, we finally reached the table and sat down at it.

Hermione joined us a moment later and slipped him a butterbeer under his cloak.

“Here’s your butterbeer, Hazel.” Hermione said, offering me the warm mug.

And with that she pulled out a notebook in which she had been keeping a record of S.P.E.W. members. I saw my name along with Harry and Ron’s at the top of the very short list. It seemed a long time ago that we had sat making up those predictions together, and Hermione had turned up and appointed us as secretary, vice president of operations, and treasurer respectively.

“You know, maybe I should try and get some of the villagers involved in S.P.E.W.," Hermione said thoughtfully, looking around the pub.

"Yeah, right," Harry said. "Hermione, when are you going to give up on this spew stuff?"

"When house-elves have decent wages and working conditions!" she hissed back. "You know, I'm starting to think it's time for more direct action. I wonder how you get into the school kitchens?"

"No idea, ask Fred and George," Harry said. I wondered how those twins seemed to know every nook and cranny of the school.

Hermione lapsed into thoughtful silence, while I drank my butterbeer, watching the people in the pub. All of them looked cheerful and relaxed. Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot were swapping Chocolate Frog cards at a nearby table; both of them sporting _Support Cedric Diggory!_ badges on their cloaks. Right over by the door, I saw Cho and a large group of her Ravenclaw friends. She wasn't wearing a Cedric badge though…

What I wouldn't have given to be one of these people, sitting around laughing and talking, with nothing to worry about but homework. I imagined how it would have felt like to be here if I had gone to Hogwarts my whole magical education. I wouldn’t feel like I had to close off my heart to all the people here, afraid that everything dear to me could be taken away at any moment. Maybe I’d be sat around with a group of friends that I had bonded within the past three years. Maybe I’d still would’ve ended up spending my time with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The four of us would be happily imagining what deadly dangerous task the schools’ champions would be facing on Tuesday. And I would have been really looking forward to it, watching them do whatever it was…cheering on Cedric with everyone else, safe in a seat at the back of the stands…not slowly filling with dread every passing moment.

I wondered how the other champions were feeling. Every time I had seen Cedric lately, he had been surrounded by admirers and looking nervous but excited, ever the cool customer. I glimpsed Fleur Delacour from time to time in the corridors; she looked exactly as she always did, haughty and unruffled. And Krum just sat in the library, poring over books.

I thought of the plans for later that night. Harry would be speaking to Sirius in just over twelve hours at the common room fire - assuming nothing went wrong - as everything else had done lately.

“Look, it's Hagrid!" Hermione said.

The back of Hagrid's enormous shaggy head - he had mercifully abandoned his bunches - emerged over the crowd. I wondered why I hadn't spotted him at once, as Hagrid was so large, but standing up carefully, I saw that Hagrid had been leaning low, talking to Professor Moody. Hagrid had an enormous tankard in front of him, but Moody was drinking from his hip flask. Madam Rosmerta, the pretty landlady Hermione had pointed out, didn't seem to think much of this; she was looking askance at Moody as she collected glasses from tables around them. Perhaps she thought it was an insult to her mulled mead, but I knew better. Moody had told us all during our last Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson that he preferred to prepare his own food and drink at all times, as it was so easy for Dark wizards to poison an unattended cup.

As I watched, I saw Hagrid and Moody get up to leave. Hagrid was ready to leave the pub but Moody, however, paused, his magical eye on the corner where Harry was sitting. He tapped Hagrid in the small of the back (being unable to reach his shoulder), muttered something to him, and then the pair of them made their way back across the pub toward our table.

"All right, Hermione, Hazel?" Hagrid said loudly.

"Hello," Hermione and I said simultaneously, smiling back.

Moody limped around the table and bent down; I thought he was reading the S.P.E.W. notebook, until he muttered, "Nice cloak, Potter."

I stared at him in amazement. The large chunk missing from Moody's nose was particularly obvious at a few inches' distance. Moody grinned.

Harry began to whisper, "Can your eye - I mean, can you -? 

"Yeah, it can see through Invisibility Cloaks," Moody said quietly. "And it's come in useful at times, I can tell you."

Hagrid was beaming down at Harry too. I knew Hagrid couldn't see him, but Moody had obviously told Hagrid he was there. Hagrid now bent down on the pretext of reading the S.P.E.W. notebook as well and said in a whisper that he thought only Harry could hear, "Harry, meet me tonight at midnight at me cabin. Wear that cloak."

Straightening up, Hagrid said loudly, "Nice ter see yeh, Hazel, Hermione," winked, and departed. Moody followed him.

"Why does Hagrid want me to meet him at midnight?" Harry said, very surprised. I shrugged.

"Does he?" Hermione said, looking startled. "I wonder what he's up to? I don't know whether you should go, Harry…" She looked nervously around and hissed, "It might make you late for Sirius."

It was true that going down to Hagrid's at midnight would mean cutting his meeting with Sirius very fine indeed; Hermione suggested sending Hedwig down to Hagrid's to tell him he couldn't go - always assuming she would consent to take the note, of course – Harry and I, however, thought it better just to be quick at whatever Hagrid wanted him for. He was very curious to know what this might be; Hagrid had never asked Harry to visit him so late at night.

At half-past eleven that evening, Hermione and I were waiting outside the portrait hole. I had just been in the common room and there were quite a few people were still in there. The Creevey brothers had managed to get hold of a stack of _Support Cedric Diggory!_ badges and were trying to bewitch them to make them say _Support Harry Potter!_ instead. So far, however, all they had managed to do was get the badges stuck on POTTER STINKS. At thirty-one past the hour, Hermione opened the Fat Lady for Harry, as we had planned. He slipped past her with a whispered "Thanks!". I was just about to follow Hermione in the common room when I felt Harry touch my hand. It took all the self-control I had to not pull my hand away. It wasn’t that I was scared, just…I didn’t know what feeling that had taken over me was.

“Hazel,” he whispered, “come with me.”

“I-I,” I turned to Hermione. She regarded us with a curious look.

“It’s up to you, Hazel.” She put her arms behind her back, “The two of you could fit under there with no problem. And anyway, if something were to happen, you could help Harry. I’ll keep watch back here.”

I looked to where I assumed Harry was, “Um, sure, alright.” What was I getting myself into?

Without so much as a look back, Hermione entered the common room. Harry’s hand, which had yet to let go, tugged me further down the hall until we came across a small alcove. He pulled me into there and slipped off the cloak. He had a broad smile as he said, “Go on, we’ll be late!”

I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep, steadying breath. I was about to be in very close proximity to Harry for an extended period of time. Just the thought made my insides react in a strange way.

“Make room, make room.” I said, ducking underneath the cloak.

I walked behind Harry, almost touching his sides to make sure we were walking close together. It was as if we were riding a motorcycle and Harry was driving. I didn’t know if it was just me but the air underneath the cloak was becoming hot and thick, which made no sense seeing as it was autumn and Hogwarts was perpetually cold.

The grounds were very dark. We walked down the lawn toward the lights shining in Hagrid's cabin. The inside of the enormous Beauxbatons carriage was also lit up; I could hear Madame Maxime talking inside it as Harry knocked on Hagrid's front door.

“You there, Harry?" Hagrid whispered, opening the door and looking around. I made sure to make no sound.

"Yeah," Harry said, slipping inside the cabin and pulling the cloak down off his head. I quickly crouched to keep hidden. "What's up?"

"Got summat ter show yeh," Hagrid said.

There was an air of enormous excitement about Hagrid. He was wearing a flower that resembled an oversized artichoke in his buttonhole. It looked as though he had abandoned the use of axle grease, but he had certainly attempted to comb his hair - I could see the comb's broken teeth tangled in it.

"What're you showing me?" Harry said warily. I wondered if the skrewts had laid eggs and that’s what he wanted to show off.

"Come with me, keep quiet, an' keep yerself covered with that cloak," Hagrid said. "We won' take Fang, he won' like it…"

"Listen, Hagrid, I can't stay long…I've got to be back up at the castle by one o'clock -"

But Hagrid wasn't listening; he was opening the cabin door and striding off into the night. Harry hurried to follow in his frantic movements, almost left me behind. To my great surprise, Hagrid was leading us to the Beauxbatons carriage.

"Hagrid, what -?"

“Shhh!" Hagrid said, and he knocked three times on the door bearing the crossed golden wands.

Madame Maxime opened it. She was wearing a silk shawl wrapped around her massive shoulders. She smiled when she saw Hagrid.

"Ah, 'Agrid. . . it is time?"

"Bong-sewer," Hagrid said, beaming at her, and holding out a hand to help her down the golden steps.

Madame Maxime closed the door behind her, Hagrid offered her his arm, and they set off around the edge of the paddock containing Madame Maxime's giant winged horses, with Harry and I, totally bewildered, running to keep up with them. Had Hagrid wanted to show Harry Madame Maxime? He could see her any old time he wanted…she wasn't exactly hard to miss…

But it seemed that Madame Maxime was in for the same treat as Harry, because after a while she said playfully, "Wair is it you are taking me, 'Agrid?"

“Yeh'll enjoy this," Hagrid said gruffly, "worth seein', trust me. On'y - don' go tellin' anyone I showed yeh, right? Yeh're not s'posed ter know."

“Of course not," Madame Maxime said, fluttering her long black eyelashes.

I tugged on Harry’s sweater and when he briefly paused, I asked, “What is all this?”

“I’ll let you know once I’ve figured it out myself,” He said and restarting his march forward.

And still we walked, Harry getting more and more irritated as he and I jogged along in their wake. He was checking his watch every now and then and sighing quietly in discontent. Hagrid had some harebrained scheme in hand, which might make him miss Sirius.

But then - when we had walked so far around the perimeter of the forest that the castle and the lake were out of sight - I heard something. Men were shouting up ahead…then came a deafening, earsplitting roar…

Hagrid led Madame Maxime around a clump of trees and came to a halt. Harry and I hurried up alongside them - for a split second, I thought I was seeing bonfires, and men darting around them - and then my mouth fell open.

Dragons.

Four fully grown, enormous, vicious-looking dragons were rearing onto their hind legs inside an enclosure fenced with thick planks of wood (honestly, using wooden enclosure for _dragons?_ ), roaring and snorting - torrents of fire were shooting into the dark sky from their open, fanged mouths, fifty feet above the ground on their outstretched necks. There was a silvery-blue one with long, pointed horns, snapping and snarling at the wizards on the ground; a smooth-scaled green one, which was writhing and stamping with all its might; a red one with an odd fringe of fine gold spikes around its face, which was shooting mushroom-shaped fire clouds into the air; and a gigantic black one, more lizard-like than the others, which was nearest to them.

At least thirty wizards, seven or eight to each dragon, were attempting to control them, pulling on the chains connected to heavy leather straps around their necks and legs. Mesmerized, Harry looked up, high above him, and stared at the thing that was making a horrible noise, a yowling, screeching scream. I tapped him on the shoulder to break his concentration.  

"Keep back there, Hagrid!" yelled a wizard near the fence, straining on the chain he was holding. "They can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet, you know! I've seen this Horntail do forty!"

"Is'n' it beautiful?" Hagrid said softly.

“It's no good!" yelled another wizard. "Stunning Spells, on the count of three!"

Harry saw each of the dragon keepers pull out his wand.

"Stupefy!" they shouted in unison, and the Stunning Spells shot into the darkness like fiery rockets, bursting in showers of stars on the dragons' scaly hides -

Harry and I watched the dragon nearest to us teeter dangerously on its back legs; its jaws stretched wide in a silent howl; its nostrils were suddenly devoid of flame, though still smoking - then, very slowly, it fell. Several tons of sinewy, scaly-black dragon hit the ground with a thud that I could have sworn made the trees behind us quake.

The dragon keepers lowered their wands and walked forward to their fallen charges, each of which was the size of a small hill. They hurried to tighten the chains and fasten them securely to iron pegs, which they forced deep into the ground with their wands.

"Wan' a closer look?" Hagrid asked Madame Maxime excitedly. The pair of them moved right up to the fence, and we followed. The wizard who had warned Hagrid not to come any closer turned, and I realized who it was: Charlie Weasley.

"All right, Hagrid?" he panted, coming over to talk. "They should be okay now - we put them out with a Sleeping Draft on the way here, thought it might be better for them to wake up in the dark and the quiet - but, like you saw, they weren't happy, not happy at all -"

“What breeds you got here, Charlie?" asked Hagrid, gazing at the closest dragon, the black one, with something close to reverence. Its eyes were still just open. I could see a strip of gleaming yellow beneath its wrinkled black eyelid.

"This is a Hungarian Horntail," Charlie said. "There's a Common Welsh Green over there, the smaller one - a Swedish Short-Snout, that blue-gray - and a Chinese Fireball, that's the red."

Charlie looked around; Madame Maxime was strolling away around the edge of the enclosure, gazing at the stunned dragons.

"I didn't know you were bringing her, Hagrid," Charlie said, frowning. "The champions aren't supposed to know what's coming - she's bound to tell her student, isn't she?"

"Jus' thought she'd like ter see 'em," shrugged Hagrid, still gazing, enraptured, at the dragons.

"Really romantic date, Hagrid," Charlie said, shaking his head. I had to bite down hard onto my bottom lip to prevent myself from laughing. Looking up at Harry, I could see that he was doing the same.

"Four…” Hagrid said, "so it's one fer each o' the champions, is it? What've they gotta do - fight 'em?"

"Just get past them, I think," Charlie said. "We'll be on hand if it gets nasty, Extinguishing Spells at the ready. They wanted nesting mothers, I don't know why…but I tell you this, I don't envy the one who gets the Horntail. Vicious thing. Its back end's as dangerous as its front, look."

Charlie pointed toward the Horntail's tail, and I saw long, bronze-colored spikes protruding along it every few inches.

My heart threatened to stop as realization dawned on me. Harry would have to fight one of these dragons. How did they expect a fourteen-year-old to go up against a _dragon_? Harry was extraordinary, sure, but this was still a _dragon_.

Five of Charlie's fellow keepers staggered up to the Horntail at that moment, carrying a clutch of huge granite-gray eggs between them in a blanket. They placed them carefully at the Horntail's side. Hagrid let out a moan of longing. I was completely confused.

"I've got them counted, Hagrid," Charlie said sternly. Then he said, "How's Harry?"

 _Why don’t you just ask him_ , I thought, _he’s right in front of you. Also, I’m here. Hi. I haven’t seen you since the World Cup. So, you like dragons? How’s life?_

"Fine," Hagrid said. He was still gazing at the eggs.

"Just hope he's still fine after he's faced this lot," Charlie said grimly, looking out over the dragons' enclosure. "I didn't dare tell Mum what he's got to do for the first task; she's already having kittens about him…" My heart warmed that Mrs. Weasley cared that much for Harry.

Charlie imitated his mother's anxious voice. "'How could they let him enter that tournament, he's much too young! I thought they were all safe, I thought there was going to be an age limit!' She was in floods after that Daily Prophet article about him. 'He still cries about his parents! Oh bless him, I never knew!'"

Harry had apparently had enough. He turned silently and began to walk away, back to the castle. Before the first step though, he gently took my hand without so much as a word. I didn’t know what was going through his mind at the moment but if holding my hand was offering him some sort of comfort, I was more than happy to let him do so. That didn’t stop my mind from jumping to a million different places, though.

Why take my hand in the first place? I would’ve followed him back either way. If the situation were different, if it wasn’t for the circumstances, one could have seen this as some sort of romantic midnight stroll. My stomach fluttered at that thought and I fought with myself to push those butterflies down.

I don’t know whether he was glad he'd seen what was coming or not. Perhaps this way was better. The first shock was over now. Maybe if he'd seen the dragons for the first time on Tuesday, he would have passed out cold in front of the whole school. He was going to be armed with his wand - which, just now, felt like nothing more than a narrow strip of wood - against a fifty-foot-high, scaly, spike-ridden, fire-breathing dragon. And he had to get past it. With everyone watching. How? I’d surely just hide behind a rock or something until they told me time was up.

Harry sped up, pulling me along with him, skirting the edge of the forest. I looked at his watch and saw that he had just under fifteen minutes to get back to the fireside and talk to Sirius. I was so focused on watching Harry’s face and reactions that we were both distracted when we ran into something – very solid.

Harry and I fell backwards, his glasses now askew, clutching the cloak around us. A voice nearby said, "Ouch! Who's there?"

Harry hastily checked that the cloak was covering the pair of us and we laid very still, staring up at the dark outline of the wizard we had hit. I recognized the goatee, it was Karkaroff.

"Who's there?" Karkaroff said again, very suspiciously, looking around in the darkness. We remained still and silent. After a minute or so, Karkaroff seemed to decide that he had hit some sort of animal; he was looking around at waist height, as though expecting to see a dog. Then he crept back under the cover of the trees and started to edge forward toward the place where the dragons were.

Very slowly and very carefully, Harry got to his feet and offered a hand to me. As soon as I took it, we set off again as fast as we could without making too much noise, hurrying through the darkness back toward Hogwarts.

I had no doubt whatsoever what Karkaroff was up to. He had sneaked off his ship to try and find out what the First Task was going to be. He might even have spotted Hagrid and Madame Maxime heading off around the forest together - they were hardly difficult to spot at a distance - and now all Karkaroff had to do was follow the sound of voices, and he, like Madame Maxime, would know what was in store for the champions.

By the looks of it, the only champion who would be facing the unknown on Tuesday was Cedric. That thought made me troubled.

Harry and I reached the castle, slipped in through the front doors, and began to climb the Marble Stairs; we were very out of breath, but we didn't dare slow down. He had less than five minutes to get up to the fire.

" _Apple Turnover_!" he gasped at the Fat Lady, who was snoozing in her frame in front of the portrait hole.

"If you say so," she muttered sleepily, without opening her eyes, and the picture swung forward to admit him. Harry and I climbed inside. The common room was deserted, and, judging by the fact that it smelled quite normal, Hermione had not needed to set off any Dungbombs to ensure that he and Sirius got privacy.

Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and glanced at me briefly before he threw himself into an armchair in front of the fire. The room was in semidarkness; the flames were the only source of light. Nearby, on a table, the _Support Cedric Diggory!_ badges the Creeveys had been trying to improve were glinting in the firelight. They now read _POTTER REALLY STINKS_. Harry looked back into the flames and jumped.

Sirius Black’s head was sitting in the fire. If I hadn't seen my parents communicate like this throughout my life, it would have scared me out of his wits. I watched as Harry’s face broke into the first real smile he had worn for days. He scrambled out of his chair, crouched down by the hearth, and said, "Sirius - how're you doing?"

The infamous Sirius Black was nothing like I would have imagined. For someone who had spent twelve years in Azkaban, you’d expect him to be gaunt or troubled. But no, instead, his face was full and relaxed.

"Never mind me, how are you?" Sirius said seriously.

"I'm -" Harry paused, a troubled look crossing his face before recounting what had transpired. He was talking more than he'd talked in days - about how no one believed he hadn't entered the tournament of his own free will, how Rita Skeeter had lied about him in the Daily Prophet, how he couldn't walk down a corridor without being sneered at - and about Ron, Ron not believing him, Ron's jealousy…

“… And now Hagrid's just shown me what's coming in the First Task, and it's dragons, Sirius, and I'm a goner," he finished desperately.

Sirius looked at him, eyes full of concern. He had let Harry talk himself into silence without interruption, but now he said, "Dragons we can deal with, Harry, but we'll get to that in a minute - I haven't got long here…I've broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things I need to warn you about."

"What?" Harry said.

"Karkaroff," Sirius said. "Harry, he was a Death Eater. You know what Death Eaters are, don't you?"

“Yes - he - what?"

"He was caught, he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I'd bet everything that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year - to keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place."

"Karkaroff got released?" Harry said slowly - his brain seemed to be struggling to absorb yet another piece of shocking information. "Why did they release him?"

"He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic," Sirius said bitterly. "He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then he named names. He put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place. He's not very popular in there, I can tell you. And since he got out, from what I can tell, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out for the Durmstrang champion as well."

 "Okay," Harry said slowly. "But…are you saying Karkaroff put my name in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop me from competing."

"We know he's a good actor," Sirius said, "because he convinced the Ministry of Magic to set him free, didn't he? Now, I've been keeping an eye on the Daily Prophet, Harry -"

"- you and the rest of the world," Harry said bitterly.

“First,” a slow smile crept onto his face, “if you need any help in the girl department, don’t hesitate to ask your good ol’ godfather.” I could feel my body temperature rise to what felt like one hundred degrees Celsius from where I sat, not far from Harry.

Sirius regarded Harry with a sort of bemused pride before Harry cried out, “Sirius!”

The man in the fire appeared to notice my presence for the first time. The smile never left his lips as he said, “Hello there. I assume you’re _the_ Hazel Masterson I’ve read about?”

My mouth felt dry but I was able to reply, “Yes, hi, uh, Mr. Black.”

“Call me Sirius! We’re fifth cousins on your father’s side, you’re basically family!”

I sat there befuddled and my mouth agape, “Uh…”

“Sirius, it’s not like that!” Harry whined, his eyes throwing darts at his godfather.

“ _Okay_ , _suuuuure_ ,” Sirius winked and I decided that I needed to go crawl in a hole now.

"Anyway, getting back on topic, I’ve been reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm," Sirius said hastily, seeing Harry about to speak, "but I don't think so, somehow. I think someone tried to stop him from getting to Hogwarts. I think someone knew their job would be a lot more difficult with him around. And no one's going to look into it too closely; Mad-Eye's heard intruders a bit too often. But that doesn't mean he can't still spot the real thing. Moody was the best Auror the Ministry ever had."

"So…what are you saying?" Harry said slowly. "Karkaroff's trying to kill me? But - why?"

Sirius hesitated.

"I've been nearing some very strange things," he said slowly. "The Death Eaters seem to be a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves at the Quidditch World Cup, didn't they? Someone set off the Dark Mark…and then - did you hear about that Ministry of Magic witch who's gone missing?"

"Bertha Jorkins?" said Harry.

"Exactly…she disappeared in Albania, and that's definitely where Voldemort was rumored to be last...and she would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't she?"

“Yeah, but it's not very likely she'd have walked straight into Voldemort, is it?" Harry asked.

"Listen, I knew Bertha Jorkins," Sirius said grimly. "She was at Hogwarts when I was, a few years above your dad and me. And she was an idiot. Very nosy, but no brains, none at all. It's not a good combination, Harry. I'd say she'd be very easy to lure into a trap."

"So…so Voldemort could have found out about the tournament?" Harry said. "Is that what you mean? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?"

"I don't know," Sirius said slowly, "I just don't know...Karkaroff doesn't strike me as the type who'd go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can't help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it look like an accident."

"Looks like a really good plan from where I'm standing," Harry said grinning bleakly. "They'll just have to stand back and let the dragons do their stuff."

"Right - these dragons," Sirius said, speaking very quickly now. "There's a way, Harry. Don't be tempted to try a Stunning Spell - dragons are strong and too powerfully magical to be knocked out by a single Stunner, you need about half a dozen wizards at a time to overcome a dragon -"

"Yeah, I know, I just saw," Harry said.

"But you can do it alone," Sirius said. "There is away, and a simple spell's all you need. Just -"

But Harry held up a hand to silence him and my heart suddenly started pounding as though it would burst. I could hear footsteps coming down the spiral staircase behind him.

"Go!" he hissed at Sirius. "Go! There's someone coming!"

Harry scrambled to his feet, hiding the fire. I realized that if someone saw Sirius's face within the walls of Hogwarts, they would raise an almighty uproar - the Ministry would get dragged in – Harry and I would be questioned about Sirius's whereabouts -

I heard a tiny _pop!_ in the fire behind Harry and knew Sirius had gone. I watched the bottom of the spiral staircase. Who had decided to go for a stroll at one o'clock in the morning, and stopped Sirius from telling him how to get past a dragon?

It was Ron. Dressed in maroon paisley pajamas, Ron stopped dead facing Harry across the room, and looked around.

"Who were you talking to?" he said.

"What's that got to do with you?" Harry snarled. "What are you doing down here at this time of night?"

"I just wondered where you -" Ron broke off, noticing me in an armchair. He looked between Harry and me, thinking hard about something before he continued. "Nothing. I'm going back to bed."

"Just thought you'd come nosing around, did you?" Harry shouted. He knew that Ron had no idea what he'd walked in on, knew he hadn't done it on purpose, but he didn't care, the pent up at his best friend pouring out of him.

"Sorry about that," Ron said, his face reddening with anger. "Should've realized you didn't want to be disturbed. I'll let you get on with practicing for your next interview in peace. Or—or doing whatever you were trying to do."

Harry seized one of the badges off the table and chucked it, as hard as he could, across the room. It hit Ron on the forehead and bounced off.

"There you go," Harry said. "Something for you to wear on Tuesday. You might even have a scar now if you’re lucky. That's what you want, isn't it?"

He strode across the room toward the stairs; he appeared to want to go upstairs but suddenly thought against it. He turned again and sat back down in an armchair. Ron gave the back of Harry’s head one last look before he stomped up the stairs.

“Harry,” I started.

“Don’t,” Harry said, “not right now.”


	12. Frequent Flyer

When I woke up the following morning, I felt incredibly tired from having stayed up so late. I sat in an armchair across from Harry for another hour after Ron’s interruption. We barely said a word to each other in that time, Harry had been lost in his thoughts.

Very soon after I had gotten ready, Hermione began to stir in her bed.

“Hazel?” She murmured, her voice husky from sleep.

“Hermione?” I replied in a whisper. Faye, Lavender, and Parvati were still asleep.

“Let’s go down together, give me a few minutes to get ready.”

While I waited, I used my wand to make my bed.

During our walk down to the Great Hall I thought about telling Hermione what had transpired the night before but decided that it was Harry’s to share. Hermione, to her own credit, didn’t ask at all, she instead talked about how she was _this_ close to having Ron see the light.

Ginny was already at Gryffindor table when we entered. Curiously enough though, she was talking to my brother. I didn’t know that they were so chummy. They had barely interacted at the World Cup, let alone at Hogwarts.

“Morning!” Ginny greeted with a smile. Michael turned and matched her grin.

“Morning sis,” he nodded, “morning, Hermione.”

“Morning loser.”

“Morning Michael!” 

“Hazel, how you hurt me!” He clutched at his chest. “Hermione, will you adopt me as your brother? Hazel doesn’t love me, I don’t know if she ever did.”

“Oh, shut it,” I said, giving him a side hug.

“I have always wondered what it would be like to have a sibling,” Hermione said contemplatively, “Alright, sure!”

I shook my head but smiled all the same as I loaded my plate. All the things I had seen and heard last night had made me famished.

I was about halfway through when Harry appeared in the Great Hall, seeming to have rushed down. I noticed him take one quick look at the food before us before grimacing slightly.

“Eat.” Hermione said, looking up at him.

“I’m alright,” he said, settling next to her. He looked across at me, his bright eyes clouded with worry, and I had to stop myself from reaching over and trying to brush the pain away.

I finished before Hermione, so I took the time to ask Mike what he had been up to lately. He was in the middle of regaling to me a story of an argument he had witnessed in the Ravenclaw common room when Hermione had consumed her last spoonful of porridge. At that, Harry grabbed her by the arm and myself by the wrist. He offered a hurried, “Sorry!” at Michael and Ginny as he pulled us up and dragged us out towards the grounds.

“What—” Hermione tried to resist his grip, “do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re almost there.” He said.

We made it to the Black Lake where Harry explained everything that had happened the night before. He talked all about the dragons and about everything Sirius had said while we took a long walk around the lake. I noticed that he had left out the part where we had held hands the whole walk back…Well…I mean…that was only out of necessity since we were almost running and under the Invisibility Cloak…and why did he need to tell Hermione anyway?

Hermione expressed shock at Sirius's warnings about Karkaroff, but she still thought that the dragons were the more pressing problem. I agreed with her. It was more important to deal with the matter at hand.

"Let's just try and keep you alive until Tuesday evening," she said desperately, "and then we can worry about Karkaroff."

We walked three times around the lake, trying all the way to think of a simple spell that would subdue a dragon. Nothing whatsoever occurred to us, so we retired to the library instead. There, Harry pulled down every book he could find on dragons, and the three of us set to work searching through the large pile.

"’Talon-clipping by charms…treating scale-rot..' This is no good, this is for nutters like Hagrid who want to keep them…”

"’Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate…' But Sirius said a simple one would do it…" I muttered, scanning as quickly as I could.

"Let's try some simple spellbooks, then," Harry said, throwing aside _Men Who Love Dragons Too Much_.

He returned to the table with a pile of spellbooks, set them down, and began to flick through each in turn. Hermione was whispering nonstop at his elbow.

"Well, there are Switching Spells…but what's the point of Switching it? Unless you swapped its fangs for wine-gums or something that would make it less dangerous. The trouble is, like that book said, not much is going to get through a dragon's hide…I'd say Transfigure it, but something that big, you really haven't got a hope, I doubt even Professor McGonagall…unless you're supposed to put the spell on yourself? Maybe to give yourself extra powers? But they're not simple spells, I mean, we haven't done any of those in class, I only know about them because I've been doing O.W.L. practice papers…"

"Hermione," Harry said through gritted teeth, "will you shut up for a bit, please? I’m trying to concentrate."

I knew that Harry was stressed but there was no need to take it out on Hermione. I reached over when Hermione wasn’t looking and squeezed his hand. His head shot out of the book he was reading and met my eyes. I gave him a meaningful look that I hoped convey my understanding but also my annoyance at his outburst.

"Oh no, he's back again, why can't he read on his stupid ship?" Hermione said irritably as Viktor Krum slouched in, cast a surly look over at the three of us, and settled himself in a distant corner with a pile of books. I quickly pulled my hand away and tucked it into my jacket before anyone could see. "Come on, Harry, Hazel, we'll go back to the common room, his fan club'll be here in a moment, twittering away."

And sure enough, as we left the library, a gang of girls tiptoed past us, one of them wearing a Bulgaria scarf tied around her waist.

We didn’t get much more done in the common room. It was the weekend and the common room was filled with what seemed to be the whole house. A little past nine o’clock, Hermione and I parted ways with Harry. He seemed to be in an even worse mood but there was little that could be done about it. As I lay in bed, I tried to think of any possible spell that could help Harry in two days’ time. I struggled to fall asleep that night but I must have dozed off at some point because I awoke hours later with the morning sun shining down onto my face.

Hermione was gone by the time I had risen from bed. “Curious.” I said, getting ready.

I met Harry down in the common room, where he was surprisingly already waiting.

“Morning, Harry,” I tried to stifle a yawn.

“Morning,” He replied.

We made it to the Great Hall without much more being said. Luckily, Harry had regained his appetite and was ploughing through his plate of eggs, toast, and sausage. I looked around the Great Hall and briefly caught a glimpse of Cedric; he was seated with friends and was chatting away amiably. I wondered if he knew what was coming...if he knew about the dragons. My breath caught in my throat. Did he know how to handle a dragon? Did he even know any spells that could help him? I looked to Harry who was fully focused on his meal and I knew once again, it wasn’t my place to share information.

I finished a little before Harry so when he chewed up the last of his bacon, we simultaneously stood up. We had Herbology first today so our trip wouldn’t be too far. Just when I was about to take my first step, Harry spoke up.

"Hazel, I'll see you in the greenhouses," he said, his gaze following something in the Hall. "Go on, I'll catch up with you."

"Harry, you'll be late, the bell's about to ring -" I started.

"I'll catch up with you, okay?" He sped out the Hall before I could reply.

I knew that I should just go to class. The goody two shoes part of me was aching to head to class. But instead, I hurried to catch up to Harry…that is, follow him close enough to see what he was about to do.

By the time I reached the bottom of the Marble Staircase, Harry was at the top. He was standing a few yards away at Cedric, who was with a load of Seventh-Year friends. Harry hesitated, as if wanting to say something but he held himself back. He followed Cedric at a distance (like I was with him) and saw that they were heading towards the Charms corridor. This gave Harry an idea, it seemed. Pausing at a distance from Cedric, he pulled out his wand and took careful aim.

" _Diffindo_!" he whispered.

Cedric's bag split. Parchment, quills, and books spilled out of it onto the floor. Several bottles of ink smashed. From my vantage point, I tilted my head at the scene before me. As far as I knew, Harry had nothing against Cedric.

“Don't bother," Cedric said in an exasperated voice as his friends bent down to help him. "Tell Flitwick I'm coming, go on…”

I watched Harry as he slipped his wand back into his robes and waited until Cedric's friends had disappeared into their classroom. He hurried up the corridor, which was now empty of everyone but himself and Cedric.

"Hi," Cedric said, picking up a copy of _A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration_ that was now splattered with ink. "My bag just split…brand-new and all…”

"Cedric," Harry said, "the first task is dragons."

“What?" Cedric said, looking up. He stared at Harry with what appeared to be genuine confusion.

"Dragons," Harry said, speaking quickly. "They've got four, one for each of us, and we've got to get past them."

Cedric stared at him. Even from where I stood some ways away, I saw some of the panic I’d been feeling since Saturday night flickering in Cedric's grey eyes.

"Are you sure?" Cedric said in a hushed voice.

"Dead sure," said Harry. "I've seen them."

"But how did you find out? We're not supposed to know…"

"Never mind," Harry said quickly. "But I'm not the only one who knows. Fleur and Krum will know by now - Maxime and Karkaroff both saw the dragons too."

Cedric straightened up, his arms full of inky quills, parchment, and books, his ripped bag dangling off one shoulder. He stared at Harry, and there was a puzzled, almost suspicious look in his eyes.

"Why are you telling me?" he asked.

Harry looked at him in disbelief, as was I. I was sure Cedric wouldn't have asked that if he had seen the dragons himself. I wouldn't have let my worst enemy face those monsters unprepared…

"It's just…fair, isn't it?" he said to Cedric. "We all know now. We're on an even footing, aren't we?"

Cedric was still looking at him in a slightly suspicious way when I heard a familiar clunking noise heading their way. Harry turned around and saw Mad-Eye Moody emerging from a nearby classroom.

 "Come with me, Potter," he growled. "Diggory, off you go. "

Harry stared apprehensively at Moody. Had he overheard it all?

"Er - Professor, I'm supposed to be in Herbology -"

"Never mind that, Potter. In my office, please."

I took that as my cue to race down to the greenhouses. I had only a few moments before the bell was due to ring and still a long way to run. As I ran, a small smile crept across my lips and a warmth consumed my face and body. Harry had, of his own volition, decided to tell Cedric what was coming tomorrow. Harry didn’t need to do so. Surely Fleur or Viktor would have never said anything. _Even_ _if_ they knew that the majority of the champions knew.

I could feel sweat starting to bead up around my hairline as made the final dash to an empty stool next to Hermione. Some of my classmates had turned to look at me when I ran in, with Hermione having the most confused face out of all of them. No sooner had I sat down did the bell ring.

“Morning class,” Professor Sprout began.

I tried very hard to concentrate on what she was saying but everything was going in one ear and out the other. I was still overwhelmed with a sense of calmness that I hadn’t expected. Both Harry and Cedric now knew. They could prepare accordingly and make it out alive.

“Hazel…Hazel!”

I blinked a few times and turned to where I had heard the voice. Hermione’s forehead was creased with lines as she stared at me.

“Wha- I mean, yes, Hermione?”

“Is everything alright?” She relaxed somewhat but still looked at me. “Professor stopped talking a few minutes ago.”

“I’m fine,” I said, looking to the other students to check what we were supposed to be doing.

“You were so out of it that I was concerned for a second,” she said, pulling out her dragonhide gloves. I rummaged through my bag to find my own.

“Oh, I was just thinking about tomorrow.” I shrugged.

“You were? I’ve been thinking about it nonstop as well.” She beckoned me to follow her as she stood. “I still can’t come up with a good solution.”

“Neither can I,” I said, grabbing a potted plant next to the one Hermione had taken.

“Also, where is Harry?” She asked as she glanced at the empty stool beside me.

“I don’t know where he is. He left in a rush at breakfast. Maybe he forgot something?” I lied.

“Huh,” she breathed before she started to explain what we were supposed to accomplish in class that day.

About halfway through the period, Harry burst through the doors, a brilliant gleam in his eyes. He apologized and then carefully handed Professor Sprout a note that she took with a frown. He turned away and scanned the greenhouse until his gaze landed on Hermione and me. A large, genuine smile spread across his lips and I couldn’t help but do the same.

“Hazel, Hermione," Harry whispered when he had reached us. "I need you two to help me."

"What d'you think I've been trying to do, Harry?" she whispered back, her eyes round with anxiety over the top of the quivering Flutterby Bush she was pruning.

“Honestly, Harry,” I put down my shears. “What are you going on about? Have you thought of something?”

His large smile returned, “What am I the best at?”

“Being annoying.” I quipped, trying to keep a smile from appearing.

Hermione thought for a moment and then said, “Quidditch.”

Harry beamed, “Exactly!”

“But Harry,” Hermione pushed some of her hair out of her face with the back of her hand. She glanced around us to check if anyone was eavesdropping before whispering, “What good is Quidditch going to be when you’re fighting a dragon?”

Before Harry could reply, it clicked, “He can use his broom to evade the dragon!” My eyes widened.

“Yes!” Harry was positively glowing now.

“Are you going to just walk onto the field with your broom in your hand?” Hermione asked, pursing her lips.

“No, that’s where I need help from the two of you. I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon."

Harry grabbed his own Flutterby Bush and hurried over.

I continued my assignment for a moment before turning to Harry. “Seriously? The thing that you’re the best at is Quidditch?”

“Yup,” Harry said smugly, which was a weird look for Harry. Other than when he was teasing, he was never very self-assured. “I mean, it’s the only activity that I think I’m the best at.”

“Really?”

Harry shrugged, “I was made Gryffindor Seeker when I was a First-Year without so much as a try out.”

My jaw dropped and that made Harry grin.

“And you’re not even allowed to be on the team until Second-Year.” He added.

I looked to Hermione for confirmation and she nodded without even turning my way. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” I teased.

* * *

And so, we practiced. We didn't have lunch but headed for a free classroom, where Harry tried with all his might to make various objects fly across the room toward him. He was still having problems. The books and quills kept losing heart halfway across the room and dropping like stones to the floor.

"Concentrate, Harry, concentrate…” Hermione repeated the mantra that she had been muttering for the past hour.

"What d'you think I'm trying to do?" Harry said angrily. "A great big dragon keeps popping up in my head for some reason…”

“Okay, try again…” I said, trying to break the tension.

Harry had wanted to skip Divination to keep practicing, but Hermione refused point-blank to skive off Arithmancy, and there was no point in staying without her. I had mastered the spell during the class period we had been taught, but I was no Hermione. We, therefore, had to endure over an hour of Professor Trelawney, who spent half the lesson telling everyone that the position of Mars with relation to Saturn at that moment meant that people born in July were in great danger of sudden, violent deaths.

"Well, that's good," Harry said loudly, his temper getting the better of him, "just as long as it's not drawn-out. I don't want to suffer."

I choked on my spit at his outburst and Ron looked for a moment as though he was going to laugh, he certainly caught Harry's eye for the first time in days.

Harry spent the rest of the lesson trying to attract small objects toward him under the table with his wand. I spent the rest of the class trying to smack his wand out of his hand before we got in trouble.

We forced down some dinner after Divination, then returned to the empty classroom with Hermione, using the Invisibility Cloak to avoid the teachers. We kept practicing until past midnight.

“You’ve got this, Harry,” I said, “actually, change the grip on your wand to something like _this_.” I moved his fingers a little closer together on his wand. I pushed away any thoughts about how close we were in proximity by continuously reminding myself that him learning this spell was _actually_ life or death.

We would have stayed longer in the empty classroom, but Peeves turned up and, pretending to think that Harry wanted things thrown at him, started chucking chairs across the room. Harry, Hermione, and I left in a hurry before the noise attracted Filch, and went back to the Gryffindor common room, which was now mercifully empty.

At two o'clock in the morning, Harry stood near the fireplace, surrounded by heaps of objects: books, quills, several upturned chairs, an old set of Gobstones, and Neville's toad, Trevor. Only in the last hour had Harry really got the hang of the Summoning Charm. Only in the last hour had some of the tension in my body relaxed.

"That's better, Harry, that's loads better," Hermione said, looking exhausted but very pleased.

 "Well, now we know what to do next time I can't manage a spell," Harry said, throwing a rune dictionary back to Hermione, so he could try again, "threaten me with a dragon. Right…" He raised his wand once more. " _Accio_ _Dictionary_!"

The heavy book soared out of Hermione's hand, flew across the room, and Harry caught it effortlessly. Maybe he _was_ a good Seeker.

"Harry, I really think you've got it!" I said delightedly.

"Just as long as it works tomorrow," Harry said. "The Firebolt's going to be much farther away than the stuff in here, it's going to be in the castle, and I'm going to be out there on the grounds…"

“That doesn't matter," I said firmly. " Just as long as you're concentrating really, really hard on it, it'll come."

“Oh really?” Harry said, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips. “ _Accio Hazel_!” 

I don’t know if it was the spell actually working, myself wanting him to feel like his spell was working, or pure delirium that made me rush over while pretending to be pulled by some sort of invisible rope. I collapsed across the arms of the chair Harry was sitting in when I was within a safe distance.

I began to laugh very hard and I could feel Harry doing the same from underneath me. When we had finally calmed ourselves down, I looked over to Hermione who was looking at us with a serious and thoughtful expression.

“Harry, Hazel, we'd better get some sleep,” she cleaned up the common room with a few flicks of her wand. She turned to Harry and said, “You're going to need it.”

We had been focusing so hard on Harry learning the Summoning Charm that evening that some of my blind panic had left me. It returned in full measure, however, the following morning. The atmosphere in the school was one of great tension and excitement. Lessons were to stop at midday, giving all the students time to get down to the dragons' enclosure - though of course, the rest of the populace didn't yet know what they would find there.

I felt especially protective of Harry that morning, what with students saying, "We'll have a box of tissues ready, Potter" as he passed them. I was in a state of nervousness so advanced that I wondered whether I should set fire to the school and run. Time was behaving in a more peculiar fashion than ever, rushing past in great dollops, so that one moment we seemed to be sitting down in our first lesson, History of Magic, and the next, walking into lunch...and then (where had the morning gone? the last of the dragon-free hours?), Professor McGonagall was hurrying over to him in the Great Hall. Lots of people were watching. She had behind her Cedric, who, through all his cool guy aura, was radiating a small bubble of uneasiness.

"Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now. You have to get ready for the First Task."

"Okay," Harry said, standing up, his fork falling onto his plate with a clatter.

“Good luck, Harry," Hermione whispered. "You'll be fine!"

"Yeah," Harry said in a voice that was most unlike his own.

“Good luck,” I voiced before the three of them could leave.

“Thanks,” Both Harry and Cedric replied. They both looked taken aback and stared at one another in confusion. McGonagall looked at the pair of them individually and then turned to me. Looked back at them, and then me again.

I used every ounce of self-control in my body to stop myself from actually dying in that moment.

They left the Great Hall without another word. McGonagall turned and her robes swished elegantly around her tall frame before she began to lead the boys out of the Hall.

“Um, excuse me,” Hermione looked at me, her dark eyes searching my lighter ones. “What was that?”

“What do you mean?” I replied, shoving some eggs into my mouth.

“Why did Harry _and_ Cedric respond to you?” She grabbed the fork from my hand. “Is there something I need to know?”

I tucked some hair behind my ears to buy me time. “There’s nothing to know.” I met her eyes.

“Do you know Cedric?” She asked, relentless.

“I met him, as well as you and Harry, at the World Cup.” I grabbed my goblet of apple juice and took a sip. “So of course I know him.”

Hermione seemed reluctant to leave it at that but shut up all the same. She glanced down the table at Ron. “Hey, Ronald!” She called.

Ron had been in the middle of taking a large bite of food when he turned to Hermione. “Wah’?”

“Hurry up and finish, we need to get down to the field. Don’t even think about not coming.” She said the last part with such anger than Ron gulped down his food and stood up.

“Fine.” He grunted.

Slowly but surely, large groups of students began walking out of the Hall and towards the main doors. From the precipice, I could see an area of the grounds that they had enclosed and erected stands. Everyone was chatting excitedly, comparing theories of what they would find upon arrival.

I looked at Ron who stared stoically towards the distance. I could tell that now, with the reality of the tournament hitting him, he was wavering even more, maybe finally believing Harry.

“It’s dragons,” I said, hoping to get a reaction out of him.

He whipped his head around, his red hair just a blur. “What are you talking about?”

“What Harry’s about to face,” I said, “it’s dragons.”

“Oh, get off it.” He said, the tips of his ears reddening.

“I’m not kidding, Ronald. I saw them with my own eyes. It’s dragons.” I glared at him. “Do you still think he put his own name in the fire?”

Ron opened his mouth but closed it before he said anything.

“Come on,” Hermione chided, grabbing each of us by the arm, “if we take any longer, we won’t get good seats.”

Right when we were about to reach the stands, Ron turned to Hermione. “Is it true?”

“Of course, Ronald. Why would Hazel lie about something like that?” Hermione said as we passed a large, red tent that I could only assume held Harry and Cedric…and the rest of the champions.

I paused when a very familiar figure stepped out of the tent with Ludo Bagman. I quickly grabbed both Ron and Hermione and pulled them towards the tent but out of view of Harry and Mr. Bagman.

“What the he—” Ron began before I covered his mouth with my hand.

"Feeling all right, Harry? Anything I can get you?" Bagman asked, a fatherly expression on his face.

"What?" Harry said. "I - no, nothing."

"Got a plan?" Bagman said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Because I don't mind sharing a few pointers, if you'd like them, you know. I mean," Bagman continued, lowering his voice still further, "you're the underdog here, Harry…Anything I can do to help."

"No," Harry said quickly, "no - I - I know what I'm going to do, thanks."

"Nobody would know, Harry," Bagman said.

“We would,” I whispered to Ron and Hermione.

“No, I'm fine," Harry said, "I've got a plan worked out, I -"

A whistle had blown somewhere.

"Good lord, I've got to run!" Bagman said in alarm, and he rushed past us without noticing our presence.

“Let’s go talk to Harry before—” I started.

“I’m going to take a seat,” Ron said, walking away.

Hermione looked to me and then at Ron.

“Go,” I said. “I’ll catch up in a second.”

I ran to where I had last seen Harry and was relieved to find that he hadn’t gone into the tent yet.

“Harry!” I stage whispered.

He turned and the grimace that had been on his face relaxed somewhat. “Hazel, what are you doing here?”

“I want to wish you luck one more time,” I said, looking to the ground.

“Well, uh, thanks.” He said.

I looked up. “And uh, here.” I pantomimed opening my skull and pulling out my brain. I offered the imaginary brain to him. “Here, take this. Hopefully it’ll help.”

The briefest of smiles flashed across his mouth before he said, “Thank you again. I better go back in.”

“You’re welcome,” before I could stop myself I wrapped my arms around him. I hoped it would offer him some sort of security or support as he faced the task ahead.

I was surprised when he returned the hug.

“Go on,” I said, “don’t want you getting in trouble.”

We pulled apart and he waved before going back inside the tent. A wave of anxiety rushed over me as I watched him walk away. He had better get out of this in one piece.

I smoothed out my robes and tie. Maybe if I made it out like I had my shit together on the outside, the inside part would follow suit.

“Hazel?” A hoarse voice called.

Hadn’t Harry just gone in?

I shifted my gaze up and saw a slightly green looking Cedric.

I walked over. “You okay, Cedric?” I placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Uh,” he put a hand over his mouth and turned a darker shade of green.

I rubbed my hand up and down his back for a minute, hoping to offer him the same comfort he had given me a month ago in the second-floor corridor. His colour returned a little but he was still green.

“Feeling a little better?” I asked, switching to rubbing his back.

He looked down at me for a few seconds without saying anything. I knew his eyes were trying to communicate something but I wasn’t fluent in its language yet.

“I think so?” He rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his neatly combed hair. “It’s just…it’s all hitting me, you know?”

I nodded empathetically. “But you said yourself you can do this. Why not make true on that promise.” I nudged him very lightly, “Remember, you said that this is going on your permanent record.”

Cedric smiled at that, even more of his normal colour returning. “I guess that’s true.” His eyes flashed to the hand that was still rubbing his back.

I retracted so fast that I could hear a joint somewhere in my arm pop.

“Ha…uh, I should go find a seat. It’s starting soon if I’m not mistaken.” I said awkwardly. “Good luck out there.”

“Thank Hazel,” he grinned broadly. “I knew I could count on you to be my moral support.”

I laughed, “Oh no! I need to leave now, before your head gets any bigger.”

Without waiting to see if Cedric said anything else, I ran towards where I saw Ron and Hermione walking earlier. I spotted them easily enough since they were only a few rows up.

“What kept you?” Hermione asked when I sat down.

“Moral support.” I replied simply.

Another whistle sounded and the First Task began.

I took the time before someone came out to get a good look at the arena the champions were to fend for themselves in. I noticed rock structures of various heights littering the field. At the opposite gate from the entrance sat a large nest with a cluster of off-white eggs; at its centre was a gleaming, golden egg.

From where I had just entered emerged Cedric, a smile on his face as he waved. The majority of the crowd stood up and roared with applause. I clapped along with everyone else but felt like if I cheered any harder, I’d be doing a disservice to Harry.

Ludo Bagman, from the stands to the left of me, began to speak. “Hello, hello, one and all!”

Applause punctuated his greeting. “Welcome to the First Task of the 1994 Triwizard Tournament!” More applause.

“Today, our four champions will be testing their wits and their skills. Will they be able to conquer their task ahead? Now, before we begin, I’d like to introduce to you your judges! First, we have the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore!” Another round of applause ensued and it was beginning to become rather tiring. Who could be so cheerful when the champions were about to confront possible death? Knots began to form in my stomach.

“The Headmistress of Beaubatons Academy of Magic, Olympe Maxime!” The applause for Madame Maxime was much more subdued compared to Professor Dumbledore. “The Headmaster of Durmstrang Institute, Igor Karkaroff!” This round, even quieter. “The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Bartemius Crouch!” Quieter still. “And finally, myself! Ludo Bagman.” With a flourish of his hand, Mr. Bagman bowed to the crowd as the applause returned louder.

“And now, as the First Task is about to begin, let me announce to you what is about to come. The First Task is simple enough. Our champions’ goal is to retrieve the golden egg there.” he gestured to the nest. “Easy enough, right? Actually, they have a large obstacle that will put a damper on their plans. Boys! Open the gates!” 

The large doors behind the nest crept open and a collective gasp overcame the audience. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched colour drained from Ron’s face. A Swedish Short-Snout walked through the doors, tied down by ropes along its body. A group of about eight men guided the dragon to the nest, where it promptly sat. I could pick out a stocky redhead among the men, Charlie.

“Is that…Charlie?” I heard Ron say, his thoughts mirroring mine.

“Yes.” I replied simply, still staring. The knot in my stomach tightened as I watched the dragon try to shake off its ties. I suddenly remembered that Cedric in the arena, about to face this creature. I turned to look at him and even from where I sat, I could see that he was still green. I could discern a hint of nervousness but he tried hard to hide it.

“On the count of three!” Charlie yelled. “One, two, three!”

They released the ties and Charlie flicked his wand. The ropes disappeared and the men jogged towards a fenced off area to the side.

“Mr. Diggory, your time starts now!”

A final cheer sounded out before it all became deathly silent. Cedric paced slowly forward, careful not to startle the dragon. It traced his movements with its eyes, accessing if he posed as a threat. Cedric paused next to a rock around his height. He peeked around it and yelled, “ _Confundus_!”

The dragon growled, clearly still fully aware. Cedric tried a series of other spells that still didn’t work. Each spell brought Cedric closer to the dragon, “ _Oppungo_!” Cedric pointed to an area around twenty feet away from the dragon’s head. Birds emerged from Cedric’s wand and flew before the dragon. It stepped away from the eggs and began to bite at the birds. Cedric took this opportunity to run forward and try for the golden egg. About thirty feet away, the dragon noticed Cedric’s movements and began to bend its head to try and bite him.

Cedric twirled in place and sprinted inside an enclavement of boulders, just narrowly missing the attack. I bit down on my lip to keep from yelling out. The rest of the crowd shrieked in excitement, enthralled by Cedric and the dragon’s dance.

“Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow,” Bagman continued his commentary. "Clever move - pity it didn't work!"

Moments later he tried to simply dash forward when the dragon was distracted. The dragon caught on very quickly and thrashed its tail. “He's taking risks, this one!” Bagman yelled.

“And he very well shouldn’t,” I muttered under my breath.

Finally, Cedric pointed to a rock near him and transfigured it into a dog. He ushered it towards the dragon and when the dragon chased the dog, Cedric darted forward, grabbed the egg and ran once more. Before the handlers could get a hold of it though, the dragon turned to Cedric, roared with anger, and blew fire at him. 

“No!” I screamed, unable to hold back.

The flames came very close to Cedric, singeing his robes. The dragon was restrained again and when the smoke cleared, I noticed that Cedric’s face was red.

“Oh, no!” I whispered.

As if he didn’t notice his condition, he smiled with pride and lifted the egg over his head. The crowd screamed and screamed until Bagman beckoned for them to settle.

"Very good indeed!" Bagman shouted. "And now the marks from the judges!"

Points were awarded and Cedric made off with thirty-eight. He waved one last time to the crowd, smiling widely again. Right before he sat, he met my eyes and raised his eyebrows. I responded by scrunching up my face. Beside me, Hermione turned, her eyes questioning. I faced her and shrugged. There was nothing that needed to be said at the moment.

"One down, three to go!" Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again. "Miss Delacour, if you please!"

Fleur entered, her face calm but I noticed that she was white-knuckling her wand. I tried to focus on her bout with the Common Welsh Green but the anxiety about Harry overwhelmed me again. I only heard snippets of Bagman’s commentary as I was too lost in my thoughts.

“Oh I'm not sure that was wise!"

“Oh…nearly! Careful now…good lord, I thought she'd had it then!”

I was able to focus just when she had been able to enchant the dragon to sleep. Right before she grabbed the egg, the dragon snored and singed her robes. She used her wand to extinguish the flames and grabbed the egg. The handlers ran out and restrained the dragon. In the end, Fleur was given thirty-five points.

"And here comes Mr. Krum!" cried Bagman.

Harry was next. And based on the fact that Krum got the Chinese Fireball, that left Harry with the Horntail.

My breaths now came in short bursts but I tried to control it to the best of my ability. No need in having a breakdown in front of the entire school population.

"Very daring!" Bagman was yelling, "That's some nerve he's showing - and - yes, he's got the egg!"

Forty points were awarded to Krum, the highest so far. He had gotten the eggs quickly and safely but his blinding spell caused the dragon to crush half of the eggs.

Before I knew it, Harry walked out through the gap in the fence. The panic was rising into a crescendo inside me and was so overwhelming that I felt lightheaded.

The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, I didn't know or care. It was time to do what Harry had to do…to focus his mind, entirely and absolutely, upon the thing that was his only chance.

He raised his wand.

" _Accio Firebolt_!" he shouted.

I waited, every fibre of me hoping, praying. If it hadn't worked…if it wasn't coming…

And then I heard it, speeding through the air behind him; I saw his Firebolt hurtling toward him around the edge of the woods, soaring into the enclosure, and stopping dead in midair beside him, waiting for him to mount. The crowd was making even more noise….Bagman was shouting something…but my ears were not working properly anymore…listening wasn't important…

_Please, just please, let him come out of this without injury._

Harry swung his leg over the broom and kicked off from the ground. He rose with an ease and elegance of an experienced flyer. I blushed for a reason unbeknownst to me.

I followed his every moment, even to where his eyes travelled. He looked down at the clutch of eggs and spotted the gold one, gleaming against its cement-coloured fellows, residing safely between the dragon's front legs.

Harry dived. The Horntail's head followed him; he seemed to know what it was going to do and pulled out of the dive just in time; a jet of fire had been released exactly where he would have been had he not swerved away.

"Great Scott, he can fly!" yelled Bagman as the crowd shrieked and gasped. "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"

The panic I had been feeling was still there but it was now dulled by watching Harry fly. I knew that if I opened my mouth at that moment, something in between a hysterical scream and laugh would come out.

Harry now soared higher in a circle; the Horntail was still following his progress; its head revolving on its long neck - if he kept this up, it would be nicely dizzy - but better not push it too long, or it would be breathing fire again…

Harry plummeted just as the Horntail opened its mouth, but this time he was less lucky - he missed the flames, but the tail came whipping up to meet him instead, and as he swerved to the left, one of the long spikes grazed his shoulder, ripping his robes.

“No!” I cried out, not caring who would see me.

Harry was still on his broom, so the cut couldn’t be very deep…but I still wanted to jump on my own broom and tend to it.

I could vaguely hear screaming and groans from the crowd, but I drowned it out again, focusing on Harry.

He circled a little bit more but the dragon remained where it was…A possibility occurred to me just as it looked to occur to Harry at the same time. 

The Horntail didn't seem to want to take off, she was too protective of her eggs. Though she writhed and twisted, furling and unfurling her wings and keeping those fearsome yellow eyes on Harry, she was afraid to move too far from them. But he had to somehow persuade her to do it, or he'd never get near them. The trick was to do it carefully, gradually…

Harry began to fly, first this way, then the other, not near enough to make her breathe fire to stave him off, but still posing a sufficient threat to ensure she kept her eyes on him. Her head swayed this way and that, watching him out of those vertical pupils, her fangs bared.

He flew higher. The Horntail's head rose with him, her neck now stretched to its fullest extent, still swaying, like a snake before its charmer. Harry rose a few more feet, and she let out a roar of exasperation. He was like a fly to her, a fly she was longing to swat; her tail thrashed again, but he was too high to reach now. She shot fire into the air, which he dodged easily. Her jaws opened wide…

"Come on," I hissed, watching Harry swerve tantalizingly above her, "come on, come on, up you get now…"

And then she reared, spreading her great, black, leathery wings at last, as wide as those of a small airplane - and Harry dived. Before the dragon knew what he had done, or where he had disappeared to, he was speeding toward the ground as fast as he could go, toward the eggs now unprotected by her clawed front legs - he had taken his hands off his Firebolt - he had seized the golden egg.

And with a huge spurt of speed, he was off, he was soaring out over the stands, the heavy egg safely under his uninjured arm.

I screamed. I screamed and I screamed. He had done it. He was safe now…And it was as though somebody had just turned the volume back up - for the first time, I became properly aware of the noise of the crowd, which was screaming and applauding as loudly as the Irish supporters at the World Cup. All the tension I had been keeping bottle up, flooded out.

"Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"

“He did it!” Ron cheered.

Hermione and I simultaneously looked to him. He had a smile just as large as mine or Hermione’s.

Noticing our stares, he said, “Alright, that was terrifying! I believe him now. I should have never doubted him.”

Hermione threw her arms around Ron, who, although surprised, returned the embrace.

I looked back at the field and saw Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, and Moody rushing to the grass. Their smiles were evident, even from the distance. Harry flew back over the stands and came in smoothly to land.

“Let’s go meet him!” Ron yelled over the noise.

We sped down the stairs and made a beeline towards the tent. There was a small crowd around it now, waiting to see a champion.

“Excuse me!” Hermione said forcefully as she pushed people to the side.

When we broke through the crowd, we rushed through the tent flaps, ready to search for Harry…

“Harry!” I cried out, almost running into him.

"Harry, you were brilliant!" Hermione said squeakily. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutching it in fear. "You were amazing! You really were!"

But Harry was looking at Ron, who was now very white and staring at Harry as though he were a ghost.

"Harry," he said, very seriously, "whoever put your name in that goblet - I - I reckon they're trying to do you in!"

It was as though the last few weeks had never happened - as though Harry were meeting Ron for the first time, right after he'd been made champion.

"Caught on, have you?" Harry said coldly. "Took you long enough."

I stood nervously between them, looking from one to the other. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly. Harry knew Ron was about to apologize and suddenly he found he didn't need to hear it.

"It's okay," he said before Ron could get the words out. "Forget it."

"No," said Ron, "I shouldn't've -"

“Forget it, "Harry said.

Ron grinned nervously at him, and Harry grinned back.

Hermione burst into tears.

“There's nothing to cry about!" Harry told her, bewildered.

"You two are so stupid!" she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front. Then, before either of them could stop her, she had given both of them a hug and dashed away, now positively howling.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

"Barking mad," Ron said, looking to me and shaking his head. "Harry, c'mon, they'll be putting up your scores…"

“Hold on there, Potter!” Madam Pomfrey yelled. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Harry turned back around and followed Madam Pomfrey to a bed. Ron and Hermione were quick to follow after him, I hesitated for a moment. I needed a moment to myself, to collect my thoughts and emotions. While I was watching Harry, this rush of adrenaline had powered me hard enough to keep my wits about me. Now that Harry was safe…at least for now…all that adrenaline had left my body and I was a little woozy.

“Hazel?”

Even with my eyes closed, I knew it was Cedric.

I opened my eyes and saw Cedric not that far away from me. He was sat upon a bed a stall down from Harry. His face was covered in a thick orange paste, which was presumably mending his burn.

I walked over to him and said, “Good job out there.”

“Thanks,” he replied. His expression turned to one of concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” I smiled, “I’m just worn out from stress.”

“You can say that again,” Cedric touched his face absentmindedly.

“I’m just worn out from stress,” I repeated mindlessly as my hand lifted up and touched the burnt side of his face. I began to smooth out the paste where it had peaked in some places. I wondered if it would scar.

I was so out of my body/lost in thought that in that moment, that it took me a moment to realise what I was doing and how Cedric was staring at my hand with a look of...wonder?

I jerked my hand back, wiping the residue of the substance on my skirt. “Sorry.”

Cedric’s face relaxed, “There’s nothing to be sorry about…I liked it?” He blushed a deep pink. I blushed because he was blushing. “I-I mean to say…it felt good? I-I mean, it made it feel better!”

“No, I get it!” I said, already planning how deep the hole I was about to dig myself to hide in would be. One thousand metres would probably be sufficient.

There was another beat of silence as I mustered up the courage to look back at Cedric.

“What's the prognosis?” I asked, slowly meeting his gaze.

His hand shot up and he stopped just before he touched it, “Madam Pomfrey says it’ll heal like nothing happened.”

“Ah, that’s good.” I said, nodding.

“Why,” he said, “were you afraid that you were going to lose looking at my handsome face?” He started grinning like an idiot.

I laughed, “Annnnd that’s my cue to leave. I’ll see you later, Cedric.”

“Bye, Hazel.”

I strolled two curtains down and found Madam Pomfrey finishing up Harry’s treatment.

"Dragons!" she said, in a disgusted. Madam Pomfrey examined Harry's shoulder once more, talking furiously all the while. "Last year dementors, this year dragons, what are they going to bring into this school next? You're very lucky this is quite shallow, it'll need cleaning before I heal it up, though…"

She cleaned the cut with a dab of some purple liquid that smoked, but then poked his shoulder with her wand, and I watched it heal instantly.

"Now, just sit quietly for a minute - sit! And then you can go and get your score."

“Feel better, Harry?” I asked, smiling at the fact that he was okay now.

“Much,” he replied, with a smile of his own.

Harry picked up the golden egg and his Firebolt and we ducked out of the tent, Ron by his side, talking fast.

"You were the best, you know, no competition. Cedric did this weird thing where he Transfigured a rock on the ground…turned it into a dog…he was trying to make the dragon go for the dog instead of him. Well, it was a pretty cool bit of Transfiguration, and it sort of worked, because he did get the egg, but he got burned as well - the dragon changed its mind halfway through and decided it would rather have him than the Labrador; he only just got away. And that Fleur girl tried this sort of charm, I think she was trying to put it into a trance - well, that kind of worked too, it went all sleepy, but then it snored, and this great jet of flame shot out, and her skirt caught fire - she put it out with a bit of water out of her wand. And Krum - you won't believe this, but he didn't even think of flying! He was probably the best after you, though. Hit it with some sort of spell right in the eye. Only thing is, it went trampling around in agony and squashed half the real eggs - they took marks off for that, he wasn't supposed to do any damage to them."

Ron drew breath as we reached the edge of the enclosure. Now that the Horntail had been taken away, and I was down on the field, I could see how the five judges were sitting - right at the other end, in raised seats draped in gold.

"It's marks out of ten from each one," I said. Harry squinted up the field, saw the first judge - Madame Maxime - raise her wand in the air. What looked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure eight.

"Not bad!" Ron said as the crowd applauded. "I suppose she took marks off for your shoulder."

Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number nine into the air.

"Looking good!" Ron yelled, thumping Harry on the back. I couldn’t help but smile at their friendship.

Next, Dumbledore. He too put up a nine. The crowd was cheering harder than ever.

Ludo Bagman - ten.

“Ten?" Harry said in disbelief. "But I got hurt! What's he playing at?"

"Harry, don't complain!" Ron yelled excitedly.

And now Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand too - four.

"What?" Ron bellowed furiously. "Four? You lousy, biased scum-bag, you gave Krum ten!"

"You're tied in first place, Harry! You and Krum!" Charlie Weasley said, hurrying to meet us as we set off back toward the school. "Listen, I've got to run, I've got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I'd tell her what happened - but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah - and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around for a few more minutes. Bagman wants a word, back in the champions' tent."

We all agreed to wait, so Harry re-entered the tent, and I found a flap to peek through.

Fleur, Cedric, and Krum all came in together. Cedric grinned at Harry when he saw him.

"Good one, Harry."

“And you," Harry said, grinning back.

I smiled privately.

"Well done, all of you!" Bagman said, bouncing into the tent and looking as pleased as though he personally had just got past a dragon. "Now, just a quick few words. You've got a nice long break before the Second Task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth - but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open. See the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg - because it will tell you what the second task is and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!"

Harry left the tent, re-joined our group, and we started to walk back around the edge of the forest, talking hard; Harry asked to hear what the other champions had done in more detail. Then, as we rounded the clump of trees, a witch leapt out from behind them.

It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes today; the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand blended perfectly against them.

"Congratulations, Harry!" she said, beaming at him. "I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How you feel now, about the fairness of the scoring?"

"Yeah, you can have a word," Harry said savagely. "Good. Bye."

“Oh shit!” I breathed, laughing with Ron. 

Hermione began to chide Harry, calling his response inappropriate.

* * *

We replayed the First Task back to Harry the throughout dinner. That evening, we travelled to the Owlery to find Hermes so that Harry could send Sirius a letter telling him that he had managed to get past his dragon unscathed. By the time we got there, Harry filled Ron in on everything Sirius had told him about Karkaroff. Though shocked at first to hear that Karkaroff had been a Death Eater, by the time we entered the Owlery Ron was saying that we ought to have suspected it all along.

"Fits, doesn't it?" he said. "Remember what Malfoy said on the train, about his dad being friends with Karkaroff? Now we know where they knew each other. They were probably running around in masks together at the World Cup. I'll tell you one thing, though, Harry, if it was Karkaroff who put your name in the goblet, he's going to be feeling really stupid now, isn't he? Didn't work, did it? You only got a scratch! Come here - I'll do it -"

“There's no way any of the other tasks are going to be that dangerous, how could they be?" Ron went on as he helped Hermes to the window. "You know what? I reckon you could win this tournament, Harry, I'm serious."

"Harry's got a long way to go before he finishes this tournament," she said seriously. "If that was the first task, I hate to think what's coming next."

"Right little ray of sunshine, aren't you?" Ron said. "You and Professor Trelawney should get together sometime."

The letter attached to Hermes’ leg was much longer and heavier than usual - Harry hadn't been able to resist giving Sirius a blow-by-blow account of exactly how he had swerved, circled, and dodged the Horntail. We watched Hermes disappear into the darkness, and then Ron said, "Well, we'd better get downstairs for your surprise party, Harry - Fred and George should have nicked enough food from the kitchens by now.”

Sure enough, when we entered the Gryffindor common room it exploded with cheers and yells again. There were mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and butterbeer on every surface; Lee Jordan had let off some Filibuster's Fireworks, so that the air was thick with stars and sparks; and Dean Thomas, who was very good at drawing, had put up some impressive new banners, most of which depicted Harry zooming around the Horntail's head on his Firebolt, though a couple showed Cedric with his head on fire.

Harry had frowned at that but said nothing. Instead, he helped himself to food; and sat down with Ron, Hermione, and me. He kept saying that he couldn't believe how happy he felt. His blissful energy was exuding out of every pore and cast a calming aura around our small group.

"Blimey, this is heavy," Lee Jordan said, picking up the golden egg, which Harry had left on a table, and weighing it in his hands. "Open it, Harry, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!"

"He's supposed to work out the clue on his own," Hermione said swiftly. "It's in the tournament rules."

"I was supposed to work out how to get past the dragon on my own too," Harry muttered, so only Hermione and I could hear him, and she grinned rather guiltily. I poked at his side.

"Yeah, go on, Harry, open it!" several people echoed.

Lee passed Harry the egg and Harry dug his fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it and prised it open.

It was hollow and completely empty - but the moment Harry opened it, the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing, filled the room.

"Shut it!" Fred bellowed, his hands over his ears.

"What was that?" Seamus said, staring at the egg as Harry slammed it shut again. "Sounded like a banshee. Maybe you've got to get past one of those next, Harry!"

"It was someone being tortured!" Neville said, who had gone very white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!" I turned to Neville with a confused look.

"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal," George said. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing. Maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry."

"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" Fred said.

Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned.

"It's all right," he said. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch -"

Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out. Fred laughed.

"Just my little joke, Neville…"

Hermione took a jam tart. Then she said, "Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?"

“Yep," Fred said, grinning at her. He put on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a house-elf. "'anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!' They're dead helpful. Get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish. "

"How do you get in there?" Hermione said in an innocently casual sort of voice.

"Easy," Fred said, "concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and -" He stopped and looked suspiciously at her. "Why?"

“Nothing," Hermione replied quickly.

"Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you?" George said. "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?"

Several people chortled. Hermione didn't answer.

“Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" said Fred warningly. "You'll put them off their cooking!"

Just then, Neville caused a slight diversion by turning into a large canary.

“Oh - sorry, Neville!" Fred shouted over all the laughter. "I forgot - it _was_ the custard creams we hexed -"

Within a minute, however, Neville had molted, and once his feathers had fallen off, he reappeared looking entirely normal. He even joined in laughing.

"Canary Creams!" Fred shouted to the excitable crowd. "George and I invented them - seven Sickles each, a bargain!"

By around one in the morning, most of our housemates had gone upstairs, with just Harry, Ron, Hermione, the Weasley twins, and Neville left in the common room. Neville was still trying to pick yellow feathers off his person with the help of myself and Hermione.

“Oi, Hazel,” Fred called. He was with George across the common room, beckoning me forward.

“I’ll be right back, Neville,” I brushed off the feathers that had attached themselves to my robes and walked over. “What did you need, you dubious boys? How could you do that to poor Neville?”

“We’re sorry!” The twins said in unison. They had mirroring apologetic grins as well.

“Don’t say that to me, say it to Neville. You guys were assholes for letting him have that Canary Cream.”

“We will, later…” George looked to his brother.

“Before we do that, we want to ask you something,” Fred said to me while looking at his brother. They were having a silent conversation that only the other could understand.

“Before we do that…you see…this is why we love you, Hazel?” George put his arm around my shoulder and smiled down at me.

I began to cough on my own spit. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

“You tell it like it is!” Fred said.

“You’re not afraid to call us out!” George added.

“You’re about to agree to help us sell our products!” Fred continued.

I was able to regain my composure long enough to say, “What makes you think I’ll do that?”

“Great question,” George said.

“Amazing query!” Fred put his around my other shoulder. I was now in the middle of a Weasley sandwich.

“In the future, we plan on breaking the female market. To do that, we need to have one on deck with us.”

“That’s where you come in! You are our first and only choice.” Fred pulled away and smiled down at me. “We’ve thought long and hard about this…Ginny is too weird and is an actual baby…Hermione…is great! But is still Hermione. You…” He placed his arms out before him as presenting something. “…are normal!”

“Thanks?” I said, tilting my head at him.

George pulled away as well and stood beside his brother. “What my brother meant to say is that we think that you are on a similar wavelength to ours and that you’d be a great part of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!”

“But I’m not a Weasley?”

“We’ll just transfigure your hair red if necessary.”

I couldn’t help but smile. I couldn’t place why but their little speech caused a bubble of contentedness to pass through me. The twins always made me smile.

“I’ll consider it,” I said. “But don’t hold your breath.”

Without so much as a second passing, they simultaneously held their breaths.

I laughed, “I said I’ll consider it. Now, go to bed before I say no.”

“Yes ma’am!” They shouted as they gave a salute and a bow before they ran up the stairs taking two at a time.

I shook my head but I was in an even better mood than before.

Hermione and Neville had been able to pick off the last of the feathers while I been speaking to the twins. The moment I re-entered their small circle Neville declared that he was off to bed.

“Thanks again, Hermione, Hazel.”

“You’re welcome.”

I watched him walk to the stairs and head up. I turned back to the trio and observed them carefully. Harry was staring at the fire, a calm expression on his face. Ron was finishing the last of the sausage rolls that the twins had nicked. Hermione was in the middle of enchanting the canary feathers go into some of the flatter common room pillows.

Ron licked his fingers, “What did they want?”

“Yeah,” Harry added, never turning away from the fire.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I shrugged off my school cloak. I guess it hadn’t crossed my mind to take it off earlier in the night. Now, hours later, it was like a heavy weight on the shoulders. I draped it over the back of the armchair I was about to sit in and plopped down. “They were going on about me joining their wheezes business.”

Ron arched an eyebrow, a slightly confused look on his face.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually going to be a part of their silly business,” Hermione scoffed.

“Why you?” Ron asked.

“I told them I’d think about it.” I looked pointedly at Hermione before facing Ron. “They said something about needing a girl to help the female market. I don’t even know what that’s all supposed to entail.”

“You should do it,” Harry suddenly piped up.

I looked over and found him watching the rest of us. “Really?”

“Yeah, you helped me these past weeks,” he paused before continuing, “and if you help them even as little as one percent of how you helped me, they’ll have it made.”

I blushed. The intensity of the heat I felt caused me to loosen my Gryffindor tie and unbutton the top of my shirt. “I’ll consider it.”

“If I’m not needed, I’ll be heading up then,” Hermione said, clearly miffed.

“Oh, come on, Hermione,” Ron stood up the same time she did. “Don’t be so emotional.”

“Me!” Hermione’s voice was at a near yell. “Me! Emotional!”

“Uhhh,” Ron stepped back.

“Honestly, Ronald, when will you ever change?”

“What do you mean? I don’t have to change. I’m perfectly fine the way I am now.”

Hermione stomped over to the girls’ staircase. “I’d beg to differ.”

She ran up the stairs, grumbling as she went. Ron, without so much as a second thought, chased after her. A step or two before the landing there was a loud, wailing, klaxon-like sound and the steps melted together to make a long, smooth stone slide. There was a brief moment when Ron tried to keep running, arms working madly like windmills, then he toppled over backward and shot down the newly created slide, coming to rest on common room floor.

“You’d think he’d have learned the first time,” Harry said between laughter.

I knew I didn’t sound at all demure as I guffawed. Ron stood up and strode quickly to the boys’ stairs and ran up.

“I have finally seen the infamous slide,” I said when I finally calmed down.

“Was it everything you wished?”

“And more!” I let out a small chuckle as the scene replayed in my mind.

I checked my watch, “We should probably sleep as well. Classes tomorrow.”

Harry stood up and offered a hand to help me. I took it gratefully.

“Good night, Hazel.” He didn’t let go of my hand. “Thank you again for your help.”

“Oh, it was nothing, it was mostly Hermione.” It was hard to pull focus from my hand and the tingling sensation I felt, but I did so anyway.

“No, you were a great help. Don’t put yourself down.” He watched me intently while he spoke.

“I’ll try not to.” I said quietly.

“Good.”

“Good.”

A heavy silence filled the air between us as we thought of what to say next.

“Harry, you did an amazing job today,” I whispered.

“I did well enough to survive,” he turned his head to the side, staring back at the fire.

“No, you did super well.” I squeezed the hand that held mine. “You kicked that dragon’s ass. You did it faster, better, and…” I thought for a second, “…more exciting than the rest of them. You flew on that broom beautifully and with a finesse I frankly didn’t think you have. You were absolutely incredible.”

Harry smiled warmly, a pink tint in his cheeks.

“I’ll deny it if you ever bring it up but,” I bit my lip, unsure if I should follow through. “You looked cool out there.”

“I did?” He said, pride evident in his voice.

“Just a liiiiittle,” I pinched my fingers together.

The common room was very dark now. What were once strong flames in the fireplace were now small and casting a warm shadow across the common room.

“Just a little?” He asked, chuckling.

“Yeah, I don't want for you to get a big head about this,” I said

“ _This_ big head?” He leaned towards me, shoving his face closer with a boyish smirk on it.

“Oh Merlin!” I exclaimed. “It’s even bigger than I thought! Godric, help!”

We dissolved into laughter so hard that we fell onto the floor. The situation wasn’t even that funny but the delirium that one feels at near two in the morning wasn’t helping the situation.

By the time we were able to collect ourselves, there was an odd tension in the room. It had been there at a lesser extent earlier but now I was so thick that it was hard to move. I hesitated to look at Harry but it was as if a magnet was pulling me towards him.

When I turned to Harry he was already looking at me. His green eyes were so expressive but I couldn’t decipher what they were saying.

“Hazel?” He whispered.

“Harry?” I replied just as softly.

“Do you ever think that—”

The common room plunged into darkness, the fire finally having gone out.

I wasn’t easily scared by darkness but I had been so anticipatory while Harry was speaking that I was startled when I couldn’t see anything.

“Harry, where are you?” I reached out, trying to find him.

“I’m right here Hazel, we weren’t that far away from each other – ooof!”

“Oh, was that you? Sorry!” I said, gripping him tighter.

“Ouch, yeah, that was my nose you grabbed.”

“So sorry!” I repeated. “Let’s try standing up.”

“Alright.”

After a little trouble, we were able to stand up properly.

“Do you think we’d be able to find the stairs? Or should we just give up and sleep here?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I think I know where we are. I can guide you to your stairs.”

“You sure? That’d be grea—” I paused. “Harry, we’re absolute idiots.”

“W-what do you mean?” He asked.

I reached into my school skirt and pulled out my wand, “ _Lumos_!”

The common room was illuminated by the light coming out of my wand. I realised that Harry and I were standing entirely too close. If there were more than fifteen centimetres between us, I’d be surprised.

“Hazel,” Harry whispered again.

“Harry?” I replied so quietly I wondered if I had imagined saying it. 

I watched as Harry’s eyes broke their connection from mine and travelled down my face.


	13. Plaits and Brats

Before anything could happen, if anything _was_ going to happen, I pulled away from Harry and dashed towards the girls’ stairs.

“Good night, Harry!” I called behind me.

I couldn’t bear to look at him again that night…especially in that dark like that. It was all too much…not in a bad way…just…

Merlin knows what might have happened.

* * *

The start of December brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts. The castle was drafty but pleasantly warm enough for the most part. I was glad of Hogwarts’ fires and thick walls every time I passed the Durmstrang ship on the lake, which was pitching in the high winds, its black sails billowing against the dark skies. I assumed that the Beauxbatons caravan was likely to be pretty chilly too. Hagrid, I noticed, was keeping Madame Maxime's horses well provided with their preferred drink of single-malt whiskey; the fumes wafting from the trough in the comer of their paddock was enough to make the entire Care of Magical Creatures class light-headed. This was unhelpful, as we were still tending the horrible skrewts and needed our wits about us.

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid told my shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. "Thought we'd jus' try an see if they fancied a kip…we'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes."

There were now only ten skrewts left; apparently their desire to kill one another had not been exercised out of them. Each of them was now approaching six feet in length. Their thick gray armor; their powerful, scuttling legs; their fire-blasting ends; their stings and their suckers, combined to make the skrewts the most repulsive things I had ever seen. The class looked dispiritedly at the enormous boxes Hagrid had brought out, all lined with pillows and fluffy blankets.

"We'll jus' lead 'em in here," Hagrid said, "an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens."

But the skrewts, it transpired, did not hibernate, and did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Hagrid was soon yelling, "Don panic, now, don' panic!" while the skrewts rampaged around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smoldering wreckage of the boxes. Most of the class - Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in the lead - had fled into Hagrid's cabin through the back door and barricaded themselves in; Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I, however, were among those who remained outside trying to help Hagrid. Together we managed to restrain and tie up nine of the skrewts, though at the cost of numerous burns and cuts; finally, only one skrewt was left.

"Don' frighten him, now!" Hagrid shouted as Ron and Harry used their wands to shoot jets of fiery sparks at the skrewt, which was advancing menacingly on them, its sting arched, quivering, over its back. "Jus' try an slip the rope 'round his sting, so he won hurt any o' the others!"

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that!" Ron shouted angrily as he and Harry backed into the wall of Hagrid's cabin, still holding the skrewt off with their sparks.

"Well, well, well…this does look like fun."

Rita Skeeter, in all her putrid glory, was leaning on Hagrid's garden fence, looking in at the mayhem. She was wearing a thick magenta cloak with a furry purple collar today, and a crocodile-skin handbag was over her arm.

Hagrid launched himself forward on top of the skrewt that was cornering Harry and Ron and flattened it; a blast of fire shot out of its end, withering the pumpkin plants nearby.

“Who're you?" Hagrid asked Rita Skeeter as he slipped a loop of rope around the skrewt's sting and tightened it.

"Rita Skeeter, _Daily Prophet_ reporter," Rita replied, beaming at him. Her gold teeth glinted.

"Thought Dumbledore said you weren' allowed inside the school anymore," Hagrid said, frowning slightly as he got off the slightly squashed skrewt and started tugging it over to its fellows.

Rita acted as though she hadn't heard what Hagrid had said.

“What are these fascinating creatures called?" she asked, beaming still more widely.

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," grunted Hagrid.

"Really?" said Rita, apparently full of lively interest. "I've never heard of them before...where do they come from?"

I noticed a dull red flush rising up out of Hagrid's wild black beard, and my heart sank. Where had Hagrid got the skrewts from? Hermione, who seemed to be thinking along these lines, said quickly, "They're very interesting, aren't they? Aren't they. Harry?"

"What? Oh yeah…ouch…interesting," Harry said as she stepped on his foot.

“Ah, you're here. Harry!" Rita Skeeter said as she looked around. "So you like Care of Magical Creatures, do you? One of your favorite lessons?"

"Yes," Harry said stoutly. Hagrid beamed at him.

"Lovely," Rita said. "Really lovely. Been teaching long?" she added to Hagrid.

I noticed her eyes travel over Dean (who had a nasty cut across one cheek), Lavender (whose robes were badly singed), Seamus (who was nursing several burnt fingers), and then to the cabin windows, where most of the class stood, their noses pressed against the glass waiting to see if the coast was clear.

"This is o'ny me second year," said Hagrid.

"Lovely…I don't suppose you'd like to give an interview, would you? Share some of your experience of magical creatures? The Prophet does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I'm sure you know. We could feature these - er - Bang-Ended Scoots."

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid said eagerly. "Er - yeah, why not?"

I had a very bad feeling about this, but there was no way of communicating it to Hagrid without Rita Skeeter seeing, so I had to stand and watch in silence as Hagrid and Rita Skeeter made arrangements to meet in the Three Broomsticks for a good long interview later that week. Then the bell rang up at the castle, signaling the end of the lesson.

"Well, good-bye, Harry!" Rita Skeeter called merrily to him as he set off with Ron and Hermione. "Until Friday night, then, Hagrid!"

"She'll twist everything he says," Harry said under his breath.

"Just as long as he didn't import those skrewts illegally or anything," Hermione said desperately. They looked at one another and then at me, it was apparently exactly the sort of thing Hagrid might do.

"Hagrid's been in loads of trouble before, and Dumbledore’s never sacked him," Ron said consolingly. "Worst that can happen is Hagrid'll have to get rid of the skrewts. Sorry…did I say worst? I meant best."

We laughed, and, feeling slightly more cheerful, went off to lunch.

I thoroughly enjoyed double Divination that afternoon; we were still doing star charts and predictions, but now that Harry and Ron were friends once more, the whole thing seemed very funny again. Professor Trelawney, who had been so pleased with the three of us when we had been predicting our own horrific deaths, quickly became irritated as Harry and Ron sniggered through her explanation of the various ways in which Pluto could disrupt everyday life.

"I would think," she said, in a mystical whisper that did not conceal her obvious annoyance, "that some of us" - she stared very meaningfully at Harry- "might be a little less frivolous had they seen what I have seen during my crystal gazing last night. As I sat here, absorbed in my needlework, the urge to consult the orb overpowered me. I arose, I settled myself before it, and I gazed into its crystalline depths...and what do you think I saw gazing back at me?"

"An ugly old bat in outsize specs?" Ron muttered under his breath.

Harry and I fought hard to keep our faces straight.

“Death, my dears."

Parvati and Lavender both put their hands over their mouths, looking horrified. I rolled my eyes at them.

"Yes," Professor Trelawney said, nodding impressively, "it comes, ever closer, it circles overhead like a vulture, ever lower…ever lower over the castle."

She stared pointedly at Harry, who yawned very widely and obviously.

"It'd be a bit more impressive if she hadn't done it about eighty times before," Harry said as we finally regained the fresh air of the staircase beneath Professor Trelawney's room. "But if I'd dropped dead every time she's told me I'm going to, I'd be a medical miracle."

"You'd be a sort of extra-concentrated ghost," I said, laughing, as we passed the Bloody Baron going in the opposite direction, his wide eyes staring sinisterly. "At least we didn't get homework.”

“I hope Hermione got loads off Professor Vector, I love not working when she is…" Ron said, smiling stupidly.

But Hermione wasn't at dinner, nor was she in the library when we went to look for her afterward. The only person in there was Viktor Krum. Ron hovered behind the bookshelves for a while, watching Krum, debating in whispers with Harry whether he should ask for an autograph - but then Ron realized that six or seven girls were lurking in the next row of books, debating exactly the same thing, and he lost his enthusiasm for the idea. I had to think about the Blast-Ended Skrewts to keep from laughing.

“Wonder where she's got to?" Ron said as he, Harry, and I went back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Dunno… _Fairy Lights_."

But the Fat Lady had barely begun to swing forward when the sound of racing feet behind us announced Hermione's arrival.

"Harry!" she panted, skidding to a halt beside him (the Fat Lady stared down at her, eyebrows raised). "Harry, you've got to come - you've got to come, the most amazing thing's happened - please -"

She seized Harry's arm and started to try to drag him back along the corridor.

"What's the matter?" Harry said.

"I'll show you when we get there - oh come on, quick -"

Harry looked around at Ron and me; we looked back at Harry, intrigued.

"Okay," Harry said, starting off back down the corridor with Hermione, Ron and I hurrying to keep up.

“Oh, don't mind me!" the Fat Lady called irritably after them. "Don't apologize for bothering me! I'll just hang here, wide open, until you get back, shall I?"

"Yeah, thanks!" Ron shouted over his shoulder.

"Hermione, where are we going?" Harry asked, after she had led us down through six floors, and started down the Marble Staircase into the Entrance Hall.

"You'll see, you'll see in a minute!" said Hermione excitedly.

She turned left at the bottom of the staircase and hurried to a door I remembered leading to the Hufflepuff living area, having seen Cedric come through it. I had never been through here before. We followed Hermione down a flight of stone steps, but instead of ending up in a gloomy underground passage like the one that led to Snape's dungeon, we found ourselves in a broad stone corridor, brightly lit with torches, and decorated with cheerful paintings that were mainly of food.

“Oh, hang on…" Harry said slowly, halfway down the corridor. "Wait a minute, Hermione."

"What?" She turned around to look at him, anticipation all over her face.

"I know what this is about," said Harry.

He nudged Ron and pointed to the painting just behind Hermione. It showed a gigantic silver fruit bowl.

"Hermione!" Ron said, cottoning on. "You're trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!"

"No, no, I'm not!" she said hastily. "And it's not spew, Ron -"

"Changed the name, have you?" Ron said, frowning at her. "What are we now, then, the House-Elf Liberation Front? I'm not barging into that kitchen and trying to make them stop work, I'm not doing it -"

"I'm not asking you to!" Hermione said impatiently. "I came down here just now, to talk to them all, and I found - oh come on, Harry, I want to show you!"

She seized his arm again, pulled him in front of the picture of the giant fruit bowl, stretched out her forefinger, and tickled the huge green pear. It began to squirm, chuckling, and suddenly turned into a large green door handle. Hermione seized it, pulled the door open, and pushed Harry hard in the back, forcing him inside.

I glimpsed around that enormous, high-ceilinged room, large as the Great Hall above it, with mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls, and a great brick fireplace at the other end. I was watched a dozen or so house-elfs cutting up fruit when something small hurtled toward Harry from the middle of the room, squealing, "Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!"

Next second all the wind had been knocked out of him as the squealing elf hit him hard in the midriff, hugging him so tightly I thought his ribs would break.

"D-Dobby?" Harry gasped. _He knows this house-elf?_

"It is Dobby, sir, it is!" squealed the voice from somewhere around his navel. "Dobby has been hoping and hoping to see Harry Potter, sir, and Harry Potter has come to see him, sir!"

Dobby let go and stepped back a few paces, beaming up at Harry, his enormous, green, tennis-ball-shaped eyes brimming with tears of happiness. He had a pencil-shaped nose, the batlike ears, the long fingers and feet…and an odd outfit? He was wearing a tea cozy for a hat, on which he had pinned a number of bright badges; a tie patterned with horseshoes over a bare chest, a pair of what looked like children's soccer shorts, and odd socks. One of these, was plain black, Hogwarts issued sock. The other was covered in pink and orange stripes.

"Dobby, what're you doing here?" Harry said in amazement.

"Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts, sir!" Dobby squealed excitedly. "Professor Dumbledore gave Dobby and Winky jobs, sir!”

"Winky?" said Harry. "She's here too?"

"Yes, sir, yes!" said Dobby, and he seized Harry's hand and pulled him off into the kitchen between the four long wooden tables that stood there. Each of these tables, I noticed as we passed them, was positioned exactly beneath the four House tables above, in the Great Hall. At the moment, they were clear of food, dinner having finished, but I supposed that an hour ago they had been laden with dishes that were then sent up through the ceiling to their counterparts above.

At least a hundred little elves were standing around the kitchen, beaming, bowing, and curtsying as Dobby led Harry past them. They were all wearing the same uniform: a tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest, and tied like a toga.

Dobby stopped in front of the brick fireplace and pointed.

“Winky, sir!" he said.

The house-elf that I briefly remembered being in the Top Box at the World Cup was sitting on a stool by the fire. Unlike Dobby, she had obviously not foraged for clothes. She was wearing a neat little skirt and blouse with a matching blue hat, which had holes in it for her large ears. However, while every one of Dobby's strange collection of garments was so clean and well cared for that it looked brand-new, Winky was plainly not taking care other clothes at all. There were soup stains all down her blouse and a burn in her skirt.

"Hello, Winky," said Harry.

Winky's lip quivered. Then she burst into tears, which spilled out of her great brown eyes and splashed down her front.

"Oh dear," Hermione said. "Winky, don't cry, please don't…"

But Winky cried harder than ever. Dobby, on the other hand, beamed up at Harry.

"Would Harry Potter like a cup of tea?" he squeaked loudly, over Winky's sobs.

"Er - yeah, okay," said Harry.

Instantly, about six house-elves came trotting up behind him, bearing a large silver tray laden with a teapot, cups for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I, a milk jug, and a large plate of biscuits.

"Good service!" Ron said, in an impressed voice. Hermione frowned at him, but the elves all looked delighted; they bowed very low and retreated. I smacked Ron hard on the arm, causing a little bit of tea to spill down his front.

“Hey,” he murmured, wiping his shirt.

"How long have you been here, Dobby?" Harry asked as Dobby handed around the tea.

"Only a week. Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby said happily. "Dobby came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir. You see, sir, it is very difficult for a house-elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, sir, very difficult indeed -"

At this, Winky howled even harder, her squashed-tomato of a nose dribbling all down her front, though she made no effort to stem the flow.

“Dobby has traveled the country for two whole years, sir, trying to find work!" Dobby squeaked. "But Dobby hasn't found work, sir, because Dobby wants paying now!"

The house-elves all around the kitchen, who had been listening and watching with interest, all looked away at these words, as though Dobby had said something rude and embarrassing. Hermione, however, said, "Good for you, Dobby!"

I had never heard of a house-elf that asked for work. I understood why, they worked harder than any wizard or witch I knew, all without pay. I smiled at the Dobby 

"Thank you, miss!" Dobby said, grinning toothily at Hermione. "But most wizards doesn't want a house-elf who wants paying, miss. 'That's not the point of a house-elf,' they says, and they slammed the door in Dobby's face! Dobby likes work, but he wants to wear clothes and he wants to be paid. Harry Potter, Dobby likes being free!"

The Hogwarts house-elves had now started edging away from Dobby, as though he were carrying something contagious. Winky, however, remained where she was, though there was a definite increase in the volume of her crying.

“And then, Harry Potter, Dobby goes to visit Winky, and finds out Winky has been freed too, sir!" Dobby said delightedly.

At this, Winky flung herself forward off her stool and lay face-down on the flagged stone floor, beating her tiny fists upon it and positively screaming with misery. Hermione hastily dropped down to her knees beside her and tried to comfort her, but nothing she said made the slightest difference. Dobby continued with his story, shouting shrilly over Winky's screeches.

"And then Dobby had the idea. Harry Potter, sir! 'Why doesn't Dobby and Winky find work together?' Dobby says. 'Where is there enough work for two house-elves?' says Winky. And Dobby thinks, and it comes to him, sir! Hogwarts! So Dobby and Winky came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir, and Professor Dumbledore took us on!"

Dobby beamed very brightly, and happy tears welled in his eyes again.

"And Professor Dumbledore says he will pay Dobby, sir, if Dobby wants paying! And so Dobby is a free elf, sir, and Dobby gets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!"

"That's not very much!" Hermione shouted indignantly from the floor, over Winky's continued screaming and fist-beating.

"Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week, and weekends off," said Dobby, suddenly giving a little shiver, as though the prospect of so much leisure and riches were frightening, "but Dobby beat him down, miss…Dobby likes freedom, miss, but he isn't wanting too much, miss, he likes work better."

This little elf was working his way into my heart as he spoke.

"And how much is Professor Dumbledore paying you, Winky?" Hermione asked kindly.

If she had thought this would cheer up Winky, she was wildly mistaken. Winky did stop crying, but when she sat up she was glaring at Hermione through her massive brown eyes, her whole face sopping wet and suddenly furious.

"Winky is a disgraced elf, but Winky is not yet getting paid!" she squeaked. "Winky is not sunk so low as that! Winky is properly ashamed of being freed!"

"Ashamed?" Hermione said blankly. "But - Winky, come on! It's Mr. Crouch who should be ashamed, not you! You didn't do anything wrong, he was really horrible to you -"

But at these words, Winky clapped her hands over the holes in her hat, flattening her ears so that she couldn't hear a word, and screeched, "You is not insulting my master, miss! You is not insulting Mr. Crouch! Mr. Crouch is a good wizard, miss! Mr. Crouch is right to sack bad Winky!"

Michael had recounted to me what had happened after I had gotten separated from them at the World Cup but the memory of the conversation was hazy. I tuned out for a little, trying to stop my mind from reliving what had happened while Winky was being fired across the field. 

When I was finally able to focus, Winky was speaking.

"Mr. Bagman comes too?" squeaked Winky, and to my great surprise (and Harry and Ron's and Hermione's too, by the looks on their faces), she looked angry. "Mr. Bagman is a bad wizard! A very bad wizard! My master isn't liking him, oh no, not at all!"

"Bagman - bad?" Harry said.

"Oh yes," Winky said, nodding her head furiously, "My master is telling Winky some things! But Winky is not saying…Winky - Winky keeps her master's secrets."

She dissolved yet again in tears; they could hear her sobbing into her skirt, "Poor master, poor master, no Winky to help him no more!"

They couldn't get another sensible word out of Winky. They left her to her crying and finished their tea, while Dobby chatted happily about his life as a free elf and his plans for his wages.

"Dobby is going to buy a sweater next, Harry Potter!" he said happily, pointing at his bare chest.

"Tell you what, Dobby," Ron said, who seemed to have taken a great liking to the elf, "I'll give you the one my mum knits me this Christmas, I always get one from her. You don't mind maroon, do you?"

Dobby was delighted. Ron was dumb at times but could apparently be quite sweet as well.

"We might have to shrink it a bit to fit you," Ron told him, "but it'll go well with your tea cozy."

As we prepared to take our leave, many of the surrounding elves pressed in upon us, offering snacks to take back upstairs. Hermione refused, with a pained look at the way the elves kept bowing and curtsying, but Harry and Ron (and I, in secret) loaded our pockets with cream cakes and pies.

"Thanks a lot!" Harry said to the elves, who had all clustered around the door to say good night. "See you, Dobby!"

"Harry Potter, can Dobby come and see you sometimes, sir?" Dobby asked tentatively.

"'Course you can," Harry said, and Dobby beamed. If someone had been looking at me then, they would have noticed that I was beaming as well.

"You know what?" Ron said, once he, Hermione, Harry, and I had left the kitchens behind and were climbing the steps into the Entrance Hall again. "All these years I've been really impressed with Fred and George, nicking food from the kitchens - well, it's not exactly difficult, is it? They can't wait to give it away!"

"I think this is the best thing that could have happened to those elves, you know," said Hermione, leading the way back up the Marble Staircase. She wasn’t being weighed down my treats like the rest of us. "Dobby coming to work here, I mean. The other elves will see how happy he is, being free, and slowly it'll dawn on them that they want that too!"

"Let's hope they don't look too closely at Winky," Harry said.

"Oh, she'll cheer up," said Hermione, though she sounded a bit doubtful. "Once the shock's worn off, and she's got used to Hogwarts, she'll see how much better off she is without that Crouch man."

"She seems to love him," Ron said thickly (he had just started on a cream cake).

"Doesn't think much of Bagman, though, does she?" said Harry. "Wonder what Crouch says at home about him?"

"Probably says he's not a very good Head of Department," Hermione said, "and let's face it, he's got a point, hasn't he?"

"I'd still rather work for him than old Crouch," Ron said. "At least Bagman's got a sense of humor."

"Don't let Percy hear you saying that," Hermione said, smiling slightly.

"Yeah, well, Percy wouldn't want to work for anyone with a sense of humor, would he?" said Ron, now starting on a chocolate eclair. "Percy wouldn't recognize a joke if it danced naked in front of him wearing Dobby's tea cozy." 

“While singing _God Save the Queen_.” I added, laughing.

* * *

"Potter! Weasley! Will you pay attention?"

Professor McGonagall's irritated voice cracked like a whip through the Transfiguration class on Thursday, and Harry and Ron both jumped and looked up. I had been doodling on a piece of parchment but the professor had only noticed Ron and Harry.

It was the end of the lesson; we had finished our work; the guinea fowl we had been changing into guinea pigs had been shut away in a large cage on Professor McGonagall's desk (Neville's still had feathers); we had copied down the homework from the blackboard ("Describe, with examples, the ways in which Transforming Spells must be adapted when performing Cross-Species Switches"). The bell was due to ring at any moment, and Harry and Ron, who had been having a sword fight with a couple of Fred and George's fake wands (I had given it to them at breakfast…guess who had been dubbed the head of public relations for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes) at the back of the class, looked up, Ron holding a tin parrot and Harry, a rubber haddock.

"Now that Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age," Professor McGonagall said, with an angry look at the pair of them as the head of Harry's haddock drooped and fell silently to the floor - Ron's parrot's beak had severed it moments before - "I have something to say to you all.

"The Yule Ball is approaching - a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above - although you may invite a younger student if you wish -"

Lavender let out a shrill giggle. Parvati nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle. They both looked around at Harry, I shot them a look, and Professor McGonagall ignored them, which I thought was distinctly unfair, as she had just told off Harry and Ron.

"Dress robes will be worn," Professor McGonagall continued, "and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then -"

Professor McGonagall stared deliberately around the class.

“The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to - er - let our hair down," she said, in a disapproving voice.

Lavender giggled harder than ever, with her hand pressed hard against her mouth to stifle the sound. I could see what was funny this time: Professor McGonagall, with her hair in a tight bun, looked as though she had never let her hair down in any sense.

"But that does _not_ mean," Professor McGonagall went on, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."

The bell rang, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders.

Professor McGonagall called above the noise, "Potter - a word, if you please."

Assuming this had something to do with his headless rubber haddock, Ron, Hermione, and I stayed back, hoping that the reprimanding would be fast. Harry proceeded gloomily to the teacher's desk. Professor McGonagall waited until the rest of the class had gone, and then said, "Potter, the champions and their partners -"

"What partners?" said Harry.

Professor McGonagall looked suspiciously at him, as though she thought he was trying to be funny.

"Your partners for the Yule Ball, Potter," she said coldly. "Your dance partners."

My insides seemed to curl up and shrivel. Harry had to take someone to the ball? I hadn’t read that in any of the books about the Triwizard Tournament. I began to think about who Harry would bring. Hermione? Ginny? I let myself have a moment of levity and thought, _Malfoy_? I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

"Dance partners?" I saw Harry going red. "I don't dance," he said quickly.

"Oh yes, you do," Professor McGonagall said irritably. "That's what I'm telling you. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball."

Before I could stop myself, I imagined Harry gliding around the hall with a faceless girl twirling her in time to the music. The mental image made me angry, weirdly enough…

"I'm not dancing," he said.

"It is traditional," Professor McGonagall said firmly. "You are a Hogwarts champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of the school. So make sure you get yourself a partner, Potter."

"But - I don't -"

"You heard me, Potter," Professor McGonagall said in a very final sort of way.

I tried to think of suitable options for Harry to take. No one came to mind, only Hermione, but I had a feeling that she wanted a certain someone else to ask her. I was fine going by myself…that was better anyway, less drama.

When the sign-up list went up for who would be staying for Christmas, everyone in the fourth year and above seemed to be staying. Most girls seemed to be obsessed with the coming ball - actually, even all the boys were, and it was amazing how many boys Hogwarts suddenly seemed to hold; I had never quite noticed that before. There were girls giggling and whispering in the corridors, girls shrieking with laughter as boys passed them, girls excitedly comparing notes on what they were going to wear on Christmas night. Boys were talking in the halls about who they would ask and if the person would say yes.

"Why do they have to move in packs?" Harry asked Ron and me as a dozen or so girls walked past us, sniggering and staring at Harry. "How're you supposed to get one on their own to ask them?"

"Lasso one?" Ron suggested. "Got any idea who you're going to try?"

Harry didn't answer. He quickly turned his head and stared out the frosted window, as if the snow was suddenly very interesting.

Ron seemed to know what was going on inside Harry's head.

"Listen, you're not going to have any trouble. You're a champion. You've just beaten a Hungarian Horntail. I bet they'll be queuing up to go with you."

“Yeah, Harry,” I said encouragingly, “I bet any girl would be happy to say yes.”

In tribute to their recently repaired friendship, Ron had kept the bitterness in his voice to a bare minimum. Moreover, to Harry's amazement, we turned out to be quite right.

A curly-haired third-year Hufflepuff girl to whom Harry had never spoken in his life asked him to go to the ball with her the very next day. Harry was so taken aback he said no before she finished her question. The girl walked off looking rather hurt, and Harry had to endure Dean's, Seamus's, and Ron's taunts about her all through History of Magic. Hermione and I tutted about how rash his rejection was.

_She didn’t deserve his anyway_.

The following day, two more girls asked him, a second year and (to his horror and my amusement) a fifth year who looked as though she might knock him out if he refused.

"She was quite good-looking," Ron said fairly after he'd stopped laughing. I was still in a fit of giggles.

"She was a foot taller than me," Harry said, still unnerved. "Imagine what I'd look like trying to dance with her."

“I’d imagine she’d give you a very comfortable place to lay during a slow dance,” I managed to say clearly before laughing again. Ron, realising what I meant, began to chortle.

On the whole, I had to admit that if I were in a position to ask someone to the ball, I’d be a ball of nerves. I wasn’t even sure if I would have been able to get the words all out before I ran away. I could feel for Harry as he looked at every girl nervously, considering he had to ask one of them to the ball.

At least, his life had improved since he had got through the First Task. He wasn't attracting nearly as much unpleasantness in the corridors anymore, which I suspected had a lot to do with Cedric - I had an idea Cedric might have told the Hufflepuffs to leave Harry alone, in gratitude for Harry's tip-off about the dragons. That just the type of person he was. There seemed to be fewer _Support Cedric Diggory!_ badges around too. Draco Malfoy, of course, was still quoting Rita Skeeter's article to him at every possible opportunity, but he was getting fewer and fewer laughs out of it - and just to heighten all of our feelings of well-being, no story about Hagrid had appeared in the Daily Prophet.

"She didn' seem very int'rested in magical creatures, ter tell yeh the truth," Hagrid said when we asked him how his interview with Rita Skeeter had gone during the last Care of Magical Creatures lesson of the term. To our very great relief, Hagrid had given up on direct contact with the skrewts now, and they were merely sheltering behind his cabin today, sitting at a trestle table and preparing a fresh selection of food with which to tempt the skrewts.

"She jus' wanted me ter talk about you, Harry," Hagrid continued in a low voice. "Well, I told her we'd been friends since I went ter fetch yeh from the Dursleys. 'Never had to tell him off in four years?' she said. 'Never played you up in lessons, has he?' I told her no, an she didn' seem happy at all. Yeh'd think she wanted me to say yeh were horrible, Harry."

"'Course she did," Harry said, throwing lumps of dragon liver into a large metal bowl and picking up his knife to cut some more. "She can't keep writing about what a tragic little hero I am, it'll get boring."

"She wants a new angle, Hagrid," I said as I shelled salamander eggs. "You were supposed to say Harry's a mad delinquent!"

“But he's not!" Hagrid said, looking genuinely shocked.

"She should've interviewed Snape," Harry said grimly. "He'd give her the goods on me any day. 'Potter has been crossing lines ever since he first arrived at this school.’"

"Said that, did he?" Hagrid said while Ron, Hermione, and I laughed at Harry's spot-on impersonation. "Well, yeh might've bent a few rules. Harry, bu' yeh're all righ' really, aren' you?"

"Cheers, Hagrid," Harry said, grinning. I couldn’t help but do the same to the giant man before me.

"You coming to this ball thing on Christmas Day, Hagrid?" Ron asked.

"Though' I might look in on it, yeah," Hagrid said gruffly. "Should be a good do, I reckon. You'll be openin the dancin', won yeh, Harry? Who're you takin'?"

"No one, yet," Harry said and I watched his face going red again. Hagrid didn't pursue the subject. 

The last week of term became increasingly boisterous as it progressed. Rumors about the Yule Ball were flying everywhere, though I didn't believe half of them - for instance, that Dumbledore had bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta. It seemed to be fact, however, that he had booked the Weird Sisters. Exactly who or what the Weird Sisters were Harry didn't know, never having had access to a wizard's wireless, but I explained that those who had grown up listening to the WWN (Wizarding Wireless Network) knew that they were a very famous musical group./

Some of the teachers, like Professor Flitwick, gave up trying to teach us much when our minds were so clearly elsewhere; he allowed us to play games in his lesson on Wednesday, and spent most of it talking to Harry about the perfect Summoning Charm Harry had used during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. Other teachers were not so generous. Nothing would ever deflect Professor Binns, for example, from ploughing on through his notes on goblin rebellions - as Binns hadn't let his own death stand in the way of continuing to teach, I supposed a small thing like Christmas wasn't going to put him off. It was amazing how he could make even bloody and vicious goblin riots sound as boring as watching paint dry. Professors McGonagall and Moody kept us working until the very last second of their classes too, and Snape, of course, would no sooner let us play games in class than adopt Harry. Staring nastily around at us all, he informed us that he would be testing them on poison antidotes during the last lesson of the term.

"Evil, he is," Ron said bitterly that night in the Gryffindor common room. "Springing a test on us on the last day. Ruining the last bit of term with a whole load of studying."

"Mmm…you're not exactly straining yourself, though, are you?" Hermione said, looking at him over the top of her Potions notes. Ron was busy building a card castle out of his Exploding Snap pack, a little tense because of the chance that the whole thing could blow up at any second.

"It's Christmas, Hermione," Harry said lazily; he was staring blankly at _Flying with the Cannons_ in an armchair near the fire.

Hermione looked severely over at him too. "I'd have thought you'd be doing something constructive, Harry, even if you don't want to learn your antidotes!"

“Oh, lay off them, Hermione,” I said, rolling up a piece of parchment that had my Potions notes. “Christmas is so close that it’s hard to think of much else.”

"Like what?" Harry said, ignoring me and staring at Hermione.

"That egg!" Hermione hissed.

"Come on, Hermione, I've got till February the twenty-fourth," Harry said.

I was curious of what the egg actually meant but I could understand Harry’s unwillingness to figure it out just yet.

"But it might take weeks to work it out!" Hermione said. "You're going to look a real idiot if everyone else knows what the next task is and you don't!"

"Leave him alone, Hermione, he's earned a bit of a break," Ron said, and he placed the last two cards on top of the castle and the whole lot blew up, singeing his eyebrows.

"Nice look, Ron…go well with your dress robes, that will."

It was Fred and George. They sat down at the table with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I as Ron felt how much damage had been done. They took the chairs on either side of me, passing a few bottles underneath the table. I quickly glanced down and found that they were sealed bottles of love potions. Oh Merlin, what were they planning now?

"Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?" George asked.

“Uh, sure, he’s in the Owlery," Ron said. "Why?"

"Because George wants to invite him to the ball," Fred said sarcastically.

“Because we want to send a letter, you stupid great prat," George answered.

"Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?" Ron said.

"Nose out, Ron, or I'll burn that for you too," Fred said, waving his wand threateningly. "So…you lot got dates for the ball yet?"

"Nope," Ron said.

"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," Fred said.

“What about our girl here, Hazel?” George clasped my shoulder and shook me. “She’s a catch!” 

“She’s a mate,” Ron said. My body warmed knowing that he considered me a friend. "Who're you going with, then?"

"Angelina," Fred said promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.

"What?" Ron said, taken aback. "You've already asked her?"

"Good point," Fred said. He turned his head and called across the common room, "Oi! Angelina!"

Angelina, who had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet near the fire, looked over at him.

“What?" she called back.

"Want to come to the ball with me?"

Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look. I giggled, nudging Fred.

"All right, then," she said, and she turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting with a bit of a grin on her face.

"There you go," Fred said to Harry and Ron, "piece of cake."

He got to his feet, yawning, and said, "We'd better find that jittery ball of feathers, George, come on…"

They left. Ron stopped feeling his eyebrows and looked over the smoldering wreck of his card castle at Harry.

"We should get a move on, you know…ask someone. He's right. We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls."

Hermione and I let out sputters of indignation.

"A pair of…what, excuse me?" Hermione said.

"Well - you know," Ron said, shrugging. "I'd rather go alone than with - with Eloise Midgen, say."

“Excuse you, Ronald,” I said, eyebrows furrowing. “Eloise is a sweetheart!”

"Her acne's loads better lately - and she's really nice!" Hermione added.

"Her nose is off-center," Ron said.

"Oh I see," Hermione said, bristling. "So basically, you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"

"Er - yeah, that sounds about right," said Ron.

"I need to not see your face right now," Hermione snapped, and she swept off toward portrait hole without another word.

“Ron, you’re acting as if you have a load of girls lining up to go with you.” I looked around, pretending to look for the imaginary line of girls. “You’re never going to get anyone to go with you if you act like that.”

“It’s just—”

“No, you’re acting like an asshole.”

“You don’t understand, it’s that—”

I stood up, “Don’t even think of finishing that sentence.” I put on my coat that I had laid over the back of the chair. “I need a breather.”

“Hazel, wait!” Harry called after me but I paid no mind.

Once on the other side of the Fat Lady and down a flight of stairs, I realised that I hadn’t thought of a place to go. I wondered if the library would still be open at this time but remembered that Krum liked to hang out there. I didn’t need a gaggle of giggling girls annoying me more. I fully understood being a fan of someone, just not to this extremity.

So, I ventured down the stairs until I made it to the Entrance Hall. I thought about going inside the Great Hall to see if there was any food left but one quick glance told me that it was devoid of any food or people. Being annoyed tended to make me peckish.

“Wait, I know where the kitchens are now!” I said to myself, turning around and heading towards the door that led to the kitchens. I walked slowly down the stairs, it was a deep decline and I didn’t want to fall. I had just reached the portrait of the giant fruit bowl when—

“Hey, is that you, Hazel?”

How I could I have forgotten that the Hufflepuff dorms were here too?

I looked further down the hall, pulling my coat closer to me like it was a suit of armour.

Cedric grinned brilliantly when I showed my face.

“Hey, Cedric,” I smiled, I was happy to see him too, just surprised.

“Just the girl I wanted to see!” He strutted forward, his hands behind his back.

“Me?” I asked, bewildered. “Why?”

He bit his lip and considered at me for a moment before speaking. “Well, you know how the Yule Ball is just around the corner?”

My mouth suddenly felt as dry and coarse as the desert. “Uh, yeah?” I managed to choke out.

He smiled brightly and pulled out a hand from behind him. In it was a single sunflower and he offered it towards me. “Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?” He asked sweetly.

If I had been any other person, any other time, I would have said yes straight away. Instead, I felt like the walls were collapsing around me and a weight started bearing down on my chest. I fought to keep my breathing even, I didn’t want to show him how I was feeling. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go with him…it’s just I didn’t know what it would all mean.

“Uh, um,” I stuttered, swallowing a lump in my throat. “The thing is…”

Cedric’s smile faltered a little but was still genuine. “Oh, did someone already ask you?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said. I could feel that my face was very hot and probably beet red. But if it was, Cedric didn’t say anything.

“Damn,” he ran a hand through his light brown hair. “Someone beat me. But it’s fine!” He smiled again. “Have fun with H—”

“Neville!” I burst out.

“What?” Cedric said, completely confused.

“Neville asked me to the ball.” I said quickly, the words rushing out. Was he about to say the name that I thought he was about to say?

“Oh!” He was still confused, but less so now. “Ah, so Neville Longbottom was able to rope down the coolest girl in school.”

I sputtered. What? The coolest? That’s it, this proved it, Cedric was positively mad. “I’m not the coolest.” I said quietly.

He stepped closer and gently placed the sunflower in my hand. “But you are, Hazel, you are. Here. Take this anyway, beauty deserves beauty.”

I was speechless. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t think of a word to say. If the redness in my face had gone down earlier, it was back in full force now.

“Thanks, Cedric, I’m sorry,” I was able to say after moment.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Hazel,” he whispered. He reached down and held a hand. “I hope to see you at the ball.”

He turned around and walked to a pile of large barrels stacked in a shadowy stone recess on the right-hand side of the corridor. He began to tap a barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row, to a rhythm that I couldn’t make out. The barrel opened and he turned one last time to me to wave before heading in.

I was floored. I couldn’t move from where I was standing. Had Cedric Diggory really just asked me to the Yule Ball? Had I just declined with a farfetched story about Neville having asked?

I realised I needed to find Neville and ask him to the Yule Ball or else Cedric would know I was lying. I looked down to the sunflower in my hand and smiled. However teasing or annoying Cedric could be, he was very sweet.

I also considered that Neville was a very safe choice. He was a kind man who would be fun to hang out with that night. After he got over his initial nerves, Neville was an intelligent and funny guy. Going with him, I realised, would allow me to keep certain people out of my mind.

My hunger suddenly gone, I travelled back up towards the Entrance Hall, still lost in thought. I was heading towards the Marble Staircase when I ran into something.

“Oof!” I said, startled.

“Oof!” I heard another person say.

I focused my eyes and comprehended that I had rammed into Neville.

“I’m sorry, Neville!” I said, noticing his dirt covered hands. He had obviously just come from the greenhouses. Herbology was his favourite class and Professor Sprout was always asking him to stay back and help.

“It’s alright, Hazel. I’m not hurt.” He said, smiling at me. We were a similar height, with Neville being an inch or two taller so I hadn’t been able to knock him over. If he were a tiny first-year, he would have been crushed.

“Actually, what a coincidence,” I said. “I was just about to look for you.”

“You were?”

“Yeah,” I replied, smiling. “I was wondering if you’d, as friends, like to go to the Yule Ball.”

Neville seemed taken aback but smiled, “I’m surprised you don’t have a date! You’re so nice!”

“Nope, I don’t have one.” I said, matter-of-factly.

“’Course, I was thinking I might have to go by myself but gran’ll be happy to know that I have someone to go with!” He smiled wider now. “I’m going to go write her. Maybe that’ll get her off my back for a little while. Bye, Hazel!”

He shot up the stairs and I was alone again.

I played with the sunflower in my hands on my journey back upstairs. The hue reminded me of Cedric and his sun coloured Hufflepuff robes. I was sniffing it absentmindedly when the door from the second-floor corridor opened. Hermione walked out with a dazed expression. She had a curious smirk on her face and was so caught up that she hadn’t noticed me.

“Hermione!” I called, waving the hand with the flower in front of her.

“What?” Her eyes cleared. “Oh, Hazel, hi!”

I giggled slightly at the girl in front of me who looked a lot like Hermione but wasn’t acting like her.

“Earth to Hermione,” I said, “what just happened that’s making you look and act like that?”

Her smile broadened, “I’ve just gotten a date to the Yule Ball.”

“Shut up,” I said, grabbing her hand. “Shut up! Who?”

Hermione laughed and held my hand in both of hers, “Krum.”

My jaw dropped, I couldn’t help it. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” Hermione and I began walking upstairs. “I went to the library after earlier and I don’t know…he was there. And there was no fan club this time...” Hermione began to blush a pretty shade of pink. “Then he came over and asked very sweetly if I’d like to go to the ball with him.”

I smiled, “Oooooh, Hermione’s got a boyfriend!”

She smacked my arms with her free hand, “Oh, I do not!”

“I don’t know, Hermione,” I raised my eyebrows. “I think that Hermione Krum just rolls off the tongue.”

Hermione laughed but poked my side, “We’re just going to the ball!”

“That’s how it always starts,” I said. “First, it’s a ball. Then, it’s a kiss. Finally, it’s a baby!" 

“Oh, shut it!” Hermione said between laughs.

* * *

The Hogwarts staff, demonstrating a continued desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, seemed determined to show the castle at its best this Christmas. When the decorations went up, I noticed that they were the most stunning Christmas decorations I’d seen. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the banisters of the Marble Staircase; twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armour had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone passed them. It was quite something to hear "O Come, All Ye Faithful" sung by an empty helmet that only knew half the words. Several times, Filch had to extract Peeves from inside the armour, where he had taken to hiding, filling in the gaps in the songs with lyrics of his own invention, all of which were very rude.

And still I felt an awkward tension everywhere I went. Ron and Harry still did not have dates the ball and they were verbally being quite anxious about it. On more than one occasion, I found Harry looking at me exasperatedly. Harry pointed out that Ron would look much less stupid than he would without a partner; Harry was supposed to be starting the dancing with the other champions.

"I suppose there's always Moaning Myrtle," he said gloomily, referring to the ghost who haunted the girls' toilets on the second floor I had met my first week.

"Harry - we've just got to grit our teeth and do it," Ron said on Friday morning, in a tone that suggested they were planning the storming of an impregnable fortress. "When we get back to the common room tonight, we'll both have partners - agreed?"

"Er, okay," Harry said, glancing over at me.

Harry was so out of it that he could not concentrate on Snape's Potions test and consequently forgot to add the key ingredient - a bezoar - meaning that he received bottom marks.

At the day’s end, he looked more stressed out than I had seen him. Even more so that for the First Task.

" _Fairy Lights._ " he said dully to the Fat Lady.

"Yes, indeed, dear!" she trilled, straightening her new tinsel hairband as she swung forward to admit him.

Entering the common room, I looked around, and to my surprise, I saw Ron sitting ashen-faced in a distant corner. Ginny was sitting with him, talking to him in what seemed to be a low, soothing voice.

"What's up, Ron?" Harry said, joining them.

Ron looked up at Harry, a sort of blind horror in his face.

“Why did I do it?" he said wildly. "I don't know what made me do it!”

“What?" Harry asked.

"He - er - just asked Fleur Delacour to go to the ball with him," Ginny said. She looked as though she was fighting back a smile, but she kept patting Ron's arm sympathetically. I knew that if I was in her position and Michael had just asked Fleur to the ball, I would have been laughing so hard that my stomach would start aching.

“You what?' said Harry.

"I don't know what made me do it!" Ron gasped again. "What was I playing at? There were people - all around - I've gone mad - everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall - she was standing there talking to Diggory - and it sort of came over me - and I asked her!"

I bit back a smile but that feeling went away completely when I realised that he had said Cedric. I knew that I shouldn’t feel any emotions concerning him but the thought of Fleur going with Cedric made me irrationally angry.

Ron moaned and put his face in his hands. He kept talking, though the words were barely distinguishable.

"She looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn't even answer. And then - I dunno - I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it."

"She's part veela," Harry said. "You were right - her grandmother was one. It wasn't your fault, I bet you just walked past when she was turning on the old charm for Diggory and got a blast of it - but she was wasting her time. He's going with Cho Chang.”

Ron looked up.

"I heard her talking about it after lunch," Harry said dully, "I feel like every other champion already has a date and I don’t."

"This is mad," Ron said. "We're the only ones left who haven't got anyone – even Neville has one!"

"What?" Harry said, completely distracted by this startling news.

"Yeah, I know!" Ron said, some of the colour coming back into his face as he started to laugh. "He told me after Potions! Who would go with him?”

"Shut up, Ron!" I said, annoyed. "Don't laugh -"

Just then Hermione climbed in through the portrait hole.

"Why weren't you three at dinner?" she said, coming over to join us.

"Because - oh shut up laughing, you two - because they've both are still dateless for the ball while everyone else already has one!" Ginny said.

That shut Harry and Ron up.

"Thanks a bunch, Ginny," Ron said sourly.

"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?" Hermione said loftily. "Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone somewhere who'll have you."

But Ron was staring at Hermione as though suddenly seeing her in a whole new light.

"Hermione, you are a girl…"

"Oh well spotted," she said acidly.

"Well - you can come with one of us!"

"No, I can't," snapped Hermione.

"Oh, come on," he said impatiently, "we need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has."

“I can't come with you," Hermione said, now blushing, "because I'm already going with someone."

"No, you're not!" Ron said. "You're just saying that!"

"Oh, did I?" Hermione said, and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!"

Ron stared at her. Then he grinned again.

"Okay, okay, we know you're a girl," he said. "That do? Will you come now?"

"I've already told you!" Hermione said very angrily. "I'm going with someone else!"

And she stormed off toward the girls' dormitories again.

“She's lying," Ron said flatly, watching her go.

"She's not," I said quietly.

"Who is it then?" said Ron sharply.

"I'm not telling you, it's her business," I said.

“Right," Ron said, who looked extremely put out, "this is getting stupid. Ginny, you can go with Harry, and I'll just -"

"I can't," said Ginny, and she went scarlet too. "I'm going with – with…” she looked to me shyly. “Michael.”

I was taken aback that Michael had asked Ginny to the ball but she was a sweet girl and Michael was in charge of his own life.

“He asked me the other day, and I thought…well…I'm not going to be able to go otherwise, I'm not in Fourth-Year. " She looked extremely embarrassed. “He’s also cute.” She looked at me. “I think I'll go and have dinner." She got up and walked off to the portrait hole, her head bowed.

Ron goggled at Harry then turned to me. Harry seemed to be warring internally over something.

Harry spoke before Ron, “Hazel, did you want to go to the ball with me?”

I swallowed, knowing that if I spoke now, I might have thrown up. “Um…”

“Hazel, come on, you’ve got to go with one of us,” he sat up straighter. “Your choice…but you should probably go with Harry, he’s required to have a partner.”

I could feel my face turn red. “I’m sorry, I can’t either.”

I tried to avoid looking at Harry but I wasn’t able to resist and sneaked a quick glance his way. He looked sad…or was that disappointed…I wasn’t too sure. My face all of a sudden felt hotter.

“Oh, get off it.” Ron rolled his eyes. “Who are you going with?”

Remembering how he had laughed that Neville already had a date, my colour returned to normal and I sat up straighter. “Neville, if you really need to know.”

“It would have been fun going together…” Harry said quietly.

Harry continued to stare at me but I rummaged for a textbook in my bag and pretended to read it.

"What's got into them?" Ron demanded.

Harry didn’t reply and when I peeked to see why, I saw that Harry had just seen Parvati and Lavender come in through the portrait hole. Apparently, the time had come for drastic action.

"Wait here," he said to Ron, and he stood up, walked straight up to Parvati, and said, "Parvati? Will you go to the ball with me?"

Parvati went into a fit of giggles. I rolled my eyes from behind my textbook. A curious flutter tickled my chest and abdomen but I ignored it. Harry waited for Parvati and Lavender’s laughter to subside, his body rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Yes, all right then," she said finally, blushing furiously.

"Thanks," Harry said, in relief. "Lavender - will you go with Ron?"

"She's going with Seamus," Parvati said, and the pair of them giggled harder than ever.

Harry sighed audibly.

“Can't you think of anyone who'd go with Ron?" he said, lowering his voice.

"What about Hermione Granger?" Parvati said.

"She's going with someone else."

Parvati looked astonished. _Fuck you, Parvati._

"Ooooh - who?" she said keenly. _Oh, if you only knew._

Harry shrugged. "No idea," he said. "So what about Ron?"

"Well…" Parvati said slowly, "I suppose my sister might. Padma, you know, in Ravenclaw. I'll ask her if you like."

"Yeah, that would be great," Harry said. "Let me know, will you?"

As happy as I was that Harry didn’t need to stress about the ball, I was annoyed at Parvati. Had she always been this irritating?

Hermione and I had a long conversation that night about how exasperating Ron could be. We would have vented longer if Parvati and Lavender hadn’t returned to the dorm, giggling wildly.

“I can’t believe Padma's going with Ron!” Lavender said. “He’s so cute.”

Hermione glared at the girls who hadn’t noticed that we were there.

“He is!” Parvati agreed. “Though, not as hot as Harry.”

It was my turn to glare now. How could she talk so flippantly about Harry? Sure, he was good-looking, but that wasn’t the only good thing about him. He had a good heart, he was giving, understanding…he wasn’t just his looks.  

I coughed loudly to make them stop. The girls were startled, both jumping back a little when they saw us.

“Ha, didn’t see you there!” Lavender said, regaining her composure first.

“Been here.” I said flatly.

Parvati patted her braid and smiled at me, “Did you hear? Harry asked me to the ball!”

_Bitch, I was there._ “Oh, really?” I asked, faking interest.

“Yeah! I can’t believe I’ve gotten the best boy in the year!” She continued to gush.

_Neither can I._

“Who are you going with?” Lavender asked.

“Neville.” I replied.

“Oh…that’s nice.” Parvati said smiling at me like I was a dog that had just been kicked.

“It is,” I said, trying to keep my voice from being defensive. “He’s such a nice guy.”

“Mhm,” Parvati and Lavender hummed simultaneously.

Parvati walked over to Hermione’s bed and sat on the edge. Hermione looked at her questioningly, indicating to me that this wasn’t a common thing Parvati did.

“Hermione, I heard you have a date!” She smiled at Hermione sweetly. “Who is it?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow at her, “You’ll see at the ball.”

“Oh, come on, you can tell me! We’re practically sisters!” Parvati said.

Hermione couldn’t keep in her laughter. “Since when?”

Parvati continued, “Come on, just say.”

“She doesn’t have to prove anything to you, Parvati.” I said, coming to Hermione’s aid.

“Coming from the girl who couldn’t get someone better than Neville,” Parvati scoffed.

If my wand hadn’t been tucked inside my robes across the room, I would have hexed her to dust. _Neville is the gentlest soul at this school, bitch_.

“I don’t have to prove anything to you, but I was asked by two guys.” That was technically true. They didn’t need to know it was Cedric and Harry. “But I chose Neville. He’s a good friend.” Also not a lie.

Lavender looked excited, “Really, who else asked?”

“None of your business.” I said annoyedly. “That’s between me and them.”

“You two are no fun,” Lavender trotted over to her bed. Parvati didn’t follow straight away, still looking at me and Hermione with a questioning expression.

“None at all.” I went over and whispered in Hermione’s ear. “Night.”

“Night,” she whispered back. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” I replied before walking back to my bed and closing the curtains.

I settled under my covers and closed my eyes.

My velvet curtains suddenly sprang open and a wide-eyed Hermione rushed in. She cast a, “ _Muffliato_.” and rushed to my bed. “Wait, who are the two guys that asked!”


	14. Firewhisky Flames

My little slip of the mouth and inability to keep certain emotions at check, proved to be my downfall.

I sat up immediately in bed, both startled by Hermione but also ready to run if necessary. As the silence between us continued, Hermione stared at me pointedly, clearly ready to call me out on my bullshit. I considered the pros and cons of telling her everything. On the one hand, someone else at this school would know exactly what I was going through and what I was feeling. On the other – and the other being much more important to me – by telling Hermione what was going on, I would have to confront feelings that I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit yet. Even to myself.

I bit the inside of my lip knowing that the longer I waited before I spoke, the more curious Hermione would be. She closed the curtains behind her and sat down at the edge of my bed, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Well, Hazel?” Both of her dark eyebrows rose and she watched me carefully.

“Ahh, you know,” I started, knowing that she could tell I was lying, “I just made that up to get Parvati and Lavender to stop riding our brooms so hard.” I hoped the Quidditch metaphor would get her to laugh.

“Oh, Hazel, I’ve let you get away with this for far too long.” She sighed loudly. “I wanted you to have your space, especially since you’re just getting used to Hogwarts and everything…” Hermione pushed wayward strands of hair behind her ear. “But enough is enough. Let me know what’s happening with you.”

“Before I do that,” I hoped this would work, “tell me your true feelings about Ron.”

Hermione began to sputter, “W-wha-wh-what are y-you talking about?” Her cheeks turned a vibrant pink even in the dim candlelight.  

“Hermione, I’m much more observant than people assume me to be. I catch those loving…” I held up a hand to stop her from talking, “…yet _annoyed_ looks you give him.”

“There’s nothing there,” she said, “wait, don’t change the subject! This is about you!”

“I know Krum asked you…but deep down, did you want Ron to ask?” I ignored her recent statement.

“I mean, Ronald is one of my best friends, and I don’t know what would happen if—” she stopped. “Hey!”

I smiled, content with I had gotten her to start to admit. “He’s one of your best friends but you feel more for him,” I started dancing in place, “you want to looove him, you want to kisssss him, you want to make bab—”

Her hand clamped over my mouth, “Out of respect for Krum, I will see where that leads.”

“If that’s what you say…” I smiled.

“Now, back to the matter at hand!” She inched closer to me, her arse almost sitting on my feet. “ _Who are the two boys that asked_?”

I covered my face, unable to make eye contact with Hermione. “HarryandCedricbothaskedmetotheballalthoughonewasmorethoughtoutIthinkIdon’treallyknowwhythey’reaskingme,pleasemurdermeIcan’ttakefeelingallweirdlikethis,thankyou.”

Hermione blinked furiously, a confused look on her face. “Whoa, whoa, slow down. I didn’t catch any of that. Please repeat it _slowly_ and _clearly_.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, “Harry and Cedric both asked me to the ball.”

“Wait, _our_ Harry…and Cedric Diggory!” She practically yelled. If she hadn’t cast the charm that kept this all from being overheard by the girls, I would have died on the spot.

“Let me finish?” I said, “I mean, you’ve gotten me started, you might as well let me continue. One of the asks was more thought out than the other…I think, but I don’t really know. Why are they even asking me?” I remembered the last part I said. “Oh, and the last part was ‘please murder me, I can’t take feeling all weird like this, thank you.’”

Hermione’s jaw dropped, incredulity dripping from her every pore. I tapped a finger on my blanket, waiting for her to say something. “Speak, woman! You’ve already gotten me to admit this much, at least say something.”

Hermione closed her mouth but paused for a moment, considering her words. “Was this before or after Neville asked you?”

“Ha…” I said, “that’s the other thing…Neville didn’t ask me, I asked him.”

“Why? Not that there’s something wrong with that, I’m just curious.”

I inhaled deeply, wondering why I was even saying all this. “Cedric had just asked, and I turned him down –”

“What!” Hermione slapped my leg. “What!” She smacked it again.

“I don’t know!” I yelled, “I didn’t know what to do!”

“You say yes! That’s what you do!”

“Why are we yelling!” I asked.

Hermione lowered her voice to a normal volume, brushing imaginary dust off her nightgown. “Because you turned down _Cedric Diggory_.”

“Oh, shut up,” I continued, “Anyway, I turned him down and he thought someone had already asked and he was about to say a name and I think it was going to be Harry and I panicked and I’m a mess I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life—”

“Calm down, Hazel,” she patted my foot, “why did you panic when you thought he was about to say Harry?”

“I don’t know.” I knew that if I let myself actually think those thoughts, I would go mad. “I don’t know.”

“I think you know, Hazel.” Hermione stared.

“Nope,” I replied.

“Whatever,” she rolled her dark eyes, “when did Harry ask?”

“Right after you stormed out,” I shrugged, “Ginny had just revealed that she was going with my brother and then Harry asked.”

“Wait, you said one was more thought out than the other. I’m assuming that was Cedric?”

I nodded, feeling my cheeks heat up. “I went downstairs after the whole thing about Eloise Midgen and I wanted to see if the Great Hall had anything to eat. When I peeked in, it was empty, so I headed towards the kitchens. Just when I was about to tickle the pear, Cedric appeared out of Hufflepuff dorms. He said I was just the girl he wanted to see and then he pulled out a single sunflower—”

“What? What! So that’s why you have that flower!” She pointed to the incriminating plant on my bedside table. “I assumed Neville gave it to you when he asked…but I’ve been proven wrong.”

“Then I had my little panic, ran into Neville, ran into you…and then today happened. Harry was sweet about it though, after I said I couldn’t go he said that he thought that we would have had fun…” Just thinking about what he had said sent a flutter through my abdomen.

Hermione looked at my eyes, searching. “I’m still curious to how you and Cedric and so chummy…Don’t think I didn’t notice that right before the First Task both he and Harry replied to your well wishes.”

I didn’t know if my body could take any more explanation. To tell Hermione the genesis of our…whatever we had going on…would mean telling her about the World Cup.

I closed my eyes, jumping in, “Promise me that what I’m about to tell you won’t change how you look at me.”

I felt her hands take mine. I opened my eyes to find her looking at me caringly, “Never.”

I proceeded to tell her what happened at the Cup. Tears fell down my cheeks like they always did, but I was able to compose myself much faster this time. “And then right when I thought I was done for, that the man had come back…it was Cedric.”

Hermione had cried when I cried, and for that, I felt appreciative. It made me feel less alone at this school…in the world, to be honest.

“And since school started, we keep crossing paths.” I inhaled and began to explain our encounter in the Second-Floor corridor. I recounted every memory I had of Cedric and Hermione listened attentively.

“Wow,” Hermione sighed, laying on her back. “Wait, do only Cedric and I know?”

“No, Harry knows as well. I told him the morning after Halloween.” I told her about our moments together since his name came out of the goblet but before he and Ron had made up.

Hermione nodded understandingly. “But wait, you and Harry almost kissed at the lake?”

Had I said that?! “What?”

“You said that you and Harry started leaning in at the lake?”

“I don’t even remember that. I probably made that up.”

“Don’t lie,” Hermione she chided, but her eyes softened and we held hands again, “thank you for telling me all of that.”

“You’re welcome?”

“I have one last thing to ask, though,” she looked at me expectantly. “Do you like, you know, _like_ either one of them?”

“This is my honest answer, I don’t know.” I hoped that that would be sufficient.

Hermione nodded and undid her spell, “I understand. Good night, Hazel.”

“Good night, Hermione.”

* * *

Despite the very heavy load of homework that Fourth-Years had been given for the holidays, I was in no mood to work when term ended and spent the week leading up to Christmas enjoying myself as fully as possible along with everyone else. I tried to keep myself distracted from the week prior…I didn’t want to feel, I just wanted to act like any other girl. The only downside to trying to act like any other girl meant I needed to spend time with other people. Every time Harry and I were within a close proximity (which was often), I had to spend much of my self-control trying to stop thinking about him. I was still confused as ever and it was beginning to feel like that would never change.

Christmastime in Gryffindor Tower during the Triwizard Tournament, I had come to learn, was hardly less crowded now than during term-time; it seemed to have shrunk slightly too, as its inhabitants were being so much rowdier than usual. Fred and George, with my help, had had great success with their Canary Creams, and for the first couple of days of the holidays, people kept bursting into feathers all over the place. Before long, however, all the Gryffindors had learned to treat food anybody else offered them with extreme caution, in case it had a Canary Cream concealed in the centre. George had revealed to me that he and Fred were now working on developing something else, something to do with vomit. I made a mental note never to accept so much as a crisp from Fred and George in future.

Snow was falling thickly upon the castle and its grounds now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, chilly, frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid's cabin, while the Durmstrang ship's portholes were glazed with ice, the rigging white with frost. The house-elves down in the kitchen were outdoing themselves with a series of rich, warming stews and savoury puddings, and only Fleur Delacour seemed to be able to find anything to complain about.

"It is too 'eavy, all zis 'Ogwarts food," we heard her saying grumpily as we left the Great Hall behind her one evening (Ron skulking behind Harry, keen not to be spotted by Fleur). "I will not fit into my dress robes!"

“Oooh there's a tragedy," Hermione snapped as Fleur went out into the Entrance Hall. "She really thinks a lot of herself, that one, doesn't she?"

"Hermione - who are you going to the ball with?" Ron asked.

He kept springing this question on her, hoping to startle her into a response by asking it when she least expected it. However, Hermione merely frowned and said, "I'm not telling you, you'll just make fun of me."

"You're joking, Weasley!" Malfoy said, behind us. "You're not telling me someone's asked that to the ball? Not the long-molared Mudblood?"

Harry, Ron, and I whipped around but Hermione said loudly, waving to somebody over Malfoy's shoulder, "Hello, Professor Moody!"

Malfoy went pale and jumped backward, looking wildly around for Moody, but he was still up at the staff table, finishing his stew.

"Twitchy little ferret, aren't you, Malfoy?" I said, smirking at him.  We left him gaping and went up the Marble Staircase laughing heartily.

"Hermione," Ron said, looking sideways at her, suddenly frowning, "your teeth…”

"What about them?" she said.

"Well, they're different, I've just noticed…"

"Of course they are - did you expect me to keep those fangs Malfoy gave me?"

"No, I mean, they're different to how they were before he put that hex on you. They're all straight and - and normal-sized."

Hermione suddenly smiled very mischievously. Harry noticed it too, he mentioned it in passing a week or so prior. He had said it she had a very different smile from the one he remembered.

"Well, when I went up to Madam Pomfrey to get them shrunk, she held up a mirror and told me to stop her when they were back to how they normally were," she said. "And I just let her carry on a bit." She smiled even more widely. "Mum and Dad won't be too pleased. I've been trying to persuade them to let me shrink them for ages, but they wanted me to carry on with my braces. You know, they're dentists, they just don't think teeth and magic should - look! Hermes’ back!"

My owl was on the top of the ice-cold banisters, a scroll of parchment tied to his leg. People passing him were pointing, confused. 

“What are you doing in here?” I asked when I reached him. I united the parchment and handed it over to Harry who took it gratefully. Harry pocketed it and we hurried back to Gryffindor Tower to read it. 

Everyone in the common room was much too busy in letting off more holiday steam to observe what anyone else was up to. Ron, Harry, Hermione, and I sat apart from everyone else by a dark window that was gradually filling up with snow, and Harry read out:

> Dear Harry,
> 
> Congratulations on getting past the Horntail. Whoever put your name in that goblet shouldn't be feeling too happy right now! I was going to suggest a Conjunctivitus Curse, as a dragon's eyes are its weakest point –

"That's what Krum did!" Hermione whispered. The boys were so focused on the letter that they didn’t notice the wiggling my eyebrows were doing at her.

> Your way was better, I'm impressed.
> 
> Don't get complacent, though. Harry. You've only done one task; whoever put you in for the tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're trying to hurt you. Keep your eyes open -particularly when the person we discussed is around and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble.
> 
> Keep in touch, I still want to hear about anything unusual.
> 
> Sirius

"He sounds exactly like Moody," Harry said quietly, tucking the letter away again inside his jacket. "'Constant vigilance!' You'd think I walk around with my eyes shut, banging off the walls…”

"But he's right, Harry," Hermione said, "you have still got two tasks to do. You really ought to have a look at that egg, you know, and start working out what it means."

"Hermione, he's got ages!" snapped Ron. "Want a game of chess, Harry?"

"Yeah, okay," Harry said. Then, spotting the look on Hermione's face, he said, "Come on, how'm I supposed to concentrate with all this noise going on? I won't even be able to hear the egg over this lot."

"Oh, I suppose not," she sighed, and she sat down to watch their chess match, which culminated in an exciting near win for Ron's, involving a couple of recklessly brave pawns and a very violent bishop.

I waited until they sufficiently distracted before I slipped out through the portrait hole. Every night, for this past week, I had been sneaking out. When you live with four other girls in a shared dorm within an exponentially larger house with students who were often labelled as being…energetic…time alone was a commodity in short supply. I never did anything wrong, simply wandered the school, avoiding other teachers and prefects. This night, Christmas Eve, I wandered through the First-Floor corridor. I had been going through a different floor each night, just trying to get to know the school. Part of me wanted to stop, just in case I was in a different school next year, but the other part of me was endlessly curious.

I had crossed the First-Floor corridor many times in my time at Hogwarts, but I never sought to understand it better. I looked at the portrait on the wall, their occupants staring at me as I passed by.

“Shouldn’t you be in your house by now?” A painting of a tall man with large spectacles said.

I ignored him and wandered further down the hall. It was painfully quiet, with only the snowstorm outside bringing any noise. I paced around the hallway, walking slowly, as to not make too much noise.

The Yule Ball was tomorrow. If it was possible, I wanted to hide in a corner of the Great Hall the whole night, away from anything that would…make me feel like I didn’t have control. I was coming to realise in the past week that it scared me to not have constant control of my life. It wasn’t something I had considered before, in fact—

There was a blur in front of my eyes. At first, I thought it was a Hogwarts ghost passing by. But the blur continued and at a steady pace. I snapped out of my reverie and recognised the blur as a hand.

As I turned my head, unprepared for the telling off I was about to get, all I could think was ‘ _fuck me’._

As if by some cruel sort of fate, or maybe a devious god (gods?), a familiar face filled my vision.

“Fuck me!” I yelled, accidentally saying my previous thought aloud.

Cedric stared at me wide-eyed. His mouth opened and closed multiple times but the only sounds that came out were, “Ah—ba—wh—th—".

I instantly turned red and replied with my own, “Wh--, no—uh ahh—what that—”.

I would have thanked the heavens above if a hole opened up beneath me and swallowed me whole. Why did my brain have to betray me all the time? Just one day, one day!

I stopped and collected my thoughts. This was the moment to be coherent. “Uh, heeeeeyyyy, Cedric.” I cleared my throat. “You startled me just now…and the first words that came out were…well…you heard it just now…Sorry.”

Cedric nodded furiously, keen to show that he understood. “I get it!” It took him a while but he made eye contact. My face, which had just started to feel normal again, began to feel hot once more. “Shouldn’t you be back in your dorm? It’s past the Fourth-Years’ curfew.”

I stared at his shiny prefect’s badge on his chest. I wished that I could talk to him while looking at the badge so that I didn’t have to look him in the eyes, but I knew that wouldn’t be polite.

“Huh, it is?” I feigned ignorance.

Cedric shook his head but smiled, “Normally, I’d believe you, but from the way you were acting all jumpy before, I’m pretty sure that you’re aware.”

I looked at my shoes and bit my lip. He wasn’t wrong. “I’m sorry, Cedric. Give me as many detentions as you see fit.”

He bent down and tilted his head under my own so that I would see it. “Well, for an offence such as this, it’ll have to be detentions for the rest of the year, _plus_ you’ll be of Blast-Ended Skrewt excrement duty.”

“What!” I looked up and his body and face followed. “You’re kidding!”

He laughed briefly, “Of course I am.” Cedric ran a hand through his hair and I realised he was in his school robes. It was odd seeing him in them when everyone else was wearing their regular clothes. “Something wrong?”

“You look like a nerd wearing your school robes during the Christmas holidays.” I said, biting back a smile.

I could tell Cedric was holding back his own smile when he said, “That’ll be another year of detentions!”

Unable to hold back any longer, we laughed, the sounds reverberating through the corridor.

When we were able to calm ourselves, Cedric’s expression turned serious. “But really, why are you out after curfew?”

I considered what to say. Would I be honest and tell him I was avoiding…other people? Or should I just give him a little white lie? “With nearly everyone staying for the Yule Ball, the Gryffindor Tower has been a little rowdier than usual and it was teeny bit too much for me.” There was truth to what I had said.

Cedric smiled warmly, “I understand. Still, you shouldn’t be out roaming the castle.” He proffered his arm. “Come on, let’s walk you back to your dormitory.”

I stared at his arm in confusion, “Aren’t I in trouble?”

“I’ll let you off easy this time,” he said conspiratorially. “Just promise me next time you want to tour the castle _after hours_ , you’ll ask me next time.”

I closed my eyes and tried to keep my blush from returning. When the feeling passed, I stepped forward and grabbed Cedric’s arm. “I will do no such thing!” I smacked his arm lightly.

Cedric only smiled and began our walk. It was a long way from the First-Floor to the Seventh, so as we walked, we made small talk. We talked about our favourite snacks (chips for me, chocolate frogs for Cedric), what the Great Hall might look like tomorrow, and how classes were going. When we passed the fifth floor, I thought I might have seen Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, but if it had been them, they didn’t stop Cedric and me.

“Here you are,” Cedric said, stopping in front of the Fat Lady.

“So you _do_ know where the Gryffindor dorms are!” I teased, remember the first night at school.

Cedric laughed, “It looks like I do.”

I removed my hold on his arm and stepped away. “Good night, Cedric. See you tomorrow.”

He smiled gently, “I can’t wait.”

I dug my fingernails into my palm to keep from reacting. “Night, you weirdo.”

“Night, Hazelnut.”

I scrunched my face, caught off guard by the nickname.

“You really are a weirdo,” I said, refusing to look at him again. Who knew what would happen if I did.

“That’s not a nice thing to say to a handsome boy,” the Fat Lady scolded.

“ _Fairy Lights_.” I said. 

As I stepped through the portrait hole, I could hear Cedric laughing heartily.

* * *

I awoke very suddenly Christmas Day. I was the first to rise and found the reason for my abrupt return to consciousness. Our family owl, Dionysus, was clicking his beak at the window. I padded from my bed and swiftly swung the window open. A blast of cold winter air hit me like a particularly bad hex and I immediately shuddered. A second owl, one I didn’t recognize, flew in first, followed by Dio.

“Do you have everything?” I asked the two of them.

Dionysus blinked and stuck out his leg. The second owl did the same. I muttered a thanks as I quickly removed their packages and rummaged through my trunk for some sort of snack. The best I could find was a biscotti I had bought in Diagon Alley months before. I offered half to each and they flew out of the dorm and into the snowy morning.

Earlier in the month, I had asked my parents to buy some presents for a few people. Although I didn’t know how they felt about me, I wanted to buy them presents anyway.

For Michael, I had asked my parents to purchase a bar of chocolate. We had decided from a young age that we would only exchange simple presents for birthdays and Christmases. We knew of our love for one another and didn’t have the necessity to exchange expensive things. For Hermione, I asked for a bookmark that you could enchant to remember your favourite quotations. Cedric, a new knapsack to replace his torn one. I had requested to my parents to ask the leathersmith to enchant a picture of me sticking my tongue out underneath the flap. Ron, I got a Chudley Cannons sweater. Neville, matching scarlet Christmas sweaters for himself and Trevor. And for Harry, a pair of joke glasses that made it appear as though the wearer’s eyes were open, a “World’s Best Chaser!” mug, and a broom polishing kit.

My parents had also included their present to me, an enchanted gold locket with an intricate night sky design on the front. The stars twinkled and every so often a shooting star would pass by. I loved it. The note attached said that I could enchant favourite memories into the locket and it would show when opened, much like a pensieve.

I couldn’t think of a memory just yet, so I just slipped the locket over my head and let it rest against my chest.

Hermione began to stir and opened her eyes within seconds.

“Happy Christmas, Hermione,” I whispered.

“Happy Christmas, Hazel,” she replied groggily.

When we had showered and fully woken up, we headed down to the common room where Ron and Harry were already waiting with presents. Hermione had given me a never-ending ink quill. Ron, a navy-blue sweater made by his mother with the letter ‘H’. Harry, the stupid idiot, a pair of sapphire earrings. This made my stomach react in many ways, from fluttery to nauseous.

“You’ve been a big help,” he had said when I shoved the present back at him. “Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal.”

“You’re going to regret it when you see what I’ve gotten for you.” I said, shooting daggers at him with my eyes.

Hermione went first and hugged me immediately after she opened it. “I love it!”

Ron, who was already wearing a Chudley Cannons hat from Harry, threw the sweater on as well. “I’ve got a full set now!”

I waited with bated breath to see Harry’s reaction. The immediate one was laughter. I hadn’t been sure if he was going to remember what he had said back at the World Cup about being a chaser, but he apparently did. Although initially confused as to what the glasses were for, when he read the little pamphlet that came with it, he laughed again. The final gift of the polishing kit brought a small smile to his lips as he said, “Thanks.”

With presents out of the way, we headed down to breakfast. We spent most of the morning in Gryffindor Tower, where everyone was enjoying their presents, then returned to the Great Hall for a magnificent lunch, which included at least a hundred turkeys and Christmas puddings, and large piles of Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers.

We went out onto the grounds in the afternoon; the snow was untouched except for the deep channels made by the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students on their way up to the castle. Hermione chose to watch Harry, the Weasleys, and I’s snowball fight rather than join in, and at five o'clock said that she and I needed to head up.

"What, you need three hours?" Ron said, looking at her incredulously and paying for his lapse in concentration when a large snowball, thrown by George, hit him hard on the side of the head.

"Who're you going with?" he yelled after Hermione and me, but she just waved and we disappeared up the stone steps into the castle.

We giggled as we passed the closed doors of the Great Hall where they were undoubtedly decorating for the night’s festivities.

“If he only knew…” I said as we jogged up the Marble Staircase.

The Fat Lady was sat in her painting with her friend Violet when Hermione and I reached the Seventh-Floor. They were sharing a fruitcake between them and had glasses of an amber coloured liquid in their other hands.

“ _Mistletoe_.” I said, remembering that she had changed the password earlier in the day.

“Ooooh! I’d love to catch Giacomo from the Third-Floor underneath some of that!” Violet screeched as the portrait swung open.

When Hermione and I reached the stairs within the girls’ dormitories, the sounds of yelling and blow-drying spells could be heard. We certainly weren’t the first girls to start getting ready.

“I was wondering, Hazel,” Hermione said as we neared our dorm, “if you could help with my hair?”

“Oh, do you want me to give you some sort of updo?” I asked while opening our door.

“No – well yes, afterwards.” She turned a little pink. “I bought a few bottles of Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion to help tame my hair. I was wondering if you could apply it for me.”

“Of course.”

Five bottles of Sleekeazy’s and an almost mishap with a curling spell later, Hermione’s hair was now in a chignon at the nape of her neck.

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror, as if amazed by her beauty. Curly haired or slick haired, Hermione was very pretty, she just needed to see it for herself.

“Thank you!” She stood up and twirled, throwing her arms around me.

I staggered back a little, surprised.

“You’re welcome,” I chuckled.

“Now, no one can say anything about Viktor’s date,” she looked back at the mirror, checking her hair at different angles. “I look presentable now.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, annoyed, “You are beautiful either way and if someone has anything to say about it, they can talk to me.”

Hermione didn’t say anything. She toyed with a bracelet on the table and turned to me. “Do you want me to help you?”

Fifteen minutes later, my hair was curled and with the help of a few holding spells, was ready for a night of partying.

We dressed in silence, Lavender and Parvati had chosen one of the bathrooms to get ready in, and Faye was with some older friends. I kneeled in front of my trunk and reached all the way to the bottom. My dress robes had been an afterthought these past months, especially after my outburst at Madam Malkins’. I grabbed the box and placed it onto my bed.

“I wonder what it looks like,” I murmured, opening the box.

I pulled out a long-sleeved, navy-blue gown that was sheer starting at above the breasts and along the arms. It was decorated sporadically with crystals that shimmered even in the firelight. There were more crystals around the bottom of the dress and it looked like I would be walking through the stars. The indignant daughter in me didn’t want to like the dress, especially since I had been excluded in its creation, but the logical part of me took over, I loved it. I dressed quickly, having taken too much time gawking at the dress robes.

“Wow, you’re gorgeous,” Hermione said.

I looked up and saw that she was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material that cinched in at her waist and flowed out beneath her. She looked so elegant and her eyes shone with pride.

“As are you,” I said, walking towards her. “Come on, give me a twirl.”

She rolled her eyes but spun all the same. Hermione looked like a storybook princess, the dress even reminding me of the story of Cinderella. She glanced at her watch that she had placed on her bedside table, “I need to leave soon, Viktor and I agreed to meet in front of the castle.”

“Oooohhhh,” I teased. “Go on, don’t keep your Quidditch prince waiting.”

She glared at me half-heartedly, “I don’t know whether to be amused or angry.”

“Why not both, go on,” I began to shove her out the door. “Prince Viktor is waiting.”

Hermione laughed, “See you later!”

“Good luck!”

I sat at the foot of my bed, putting my locket back on. I looked over at my small pile of gifts, spotting Harry’s present. It matched my robes completely, but I blushed again wondering why Harry would get me such an extravagant present. I grabbed the small box they were in and opened it. They were still as pretty as before. Before I could overthink things further, I put on the earrings and looked at myself in the mirror. I pushed some hair back and inspected my whole ensemble.

“I love what I did with your hair,” Parvati said as she walked through the door.

“I know, I’ll look better than most of the girls at the ball.” I joked.

“Oh, Hazel!” Parvati said. I could see her face through the reflection of the mirror. She looked very pretty in robes of a shocking pink with her long dark plait braided with gold, and gold bracelets glimmering at her wrists. Lavender was in robes of a light green that suited her. “I love your robes, where’d you get them?”

“Madam Malkins’,” I replied and turned around.

“That old bat!” Lavender exclaimed, “Why didn’t she show me that dress when I was browsing?”

“I believe it’s custom?” I wasn’t quite sure. “She and my mum were the ones that talked about it.”

“Where’s Hermione?” Lavender asked, looking around the small room.

I shrugged. “Parvati, we should be heading down. I heard the boys talking about heading down around this time, earlier.”

“Oh!” Parvati clasped her hands together. “Let’s go!”

The common room looked strange, full of people wearing different colours instead of the usual mass of black. We made it down before the boys and waited by their stairs. The two friends were doing their final touches when I heard Dean talking. He and the rest of the boys were halfway down the stairs when Dean looked over at Ron, Harry, and Neville and said, "I still can't work out how you three got the best-looking girls in the year."

I blushed and saw Parvati looking at me as if to compare one another. There was no need for that. Parvati was very pretty and even someone as dull as Percy could see that.

"Animal magnetism," Ron replied gloomily, pulling stray threads out of his cuffs. His robes were now lace-free but still ugly.

“Oh!” Neville said, reaching the bottom first. He was wearing robes almost the same colour as mine. How fortuitous.

“You look great, Hazel!” He smiled brightly.

“Thanks, Neville.”

"You - er - look nice," Harry said awkwardly to Parvati. I felt an odd emotion pass through me.

"Thanks," she said. "Padma's going to meet you in the Entrance Hall," she added to Ron.

"Right," Ron said, looking around. "Where's Hermione?"

Parvati shrugged. "Shall we go down then, Harry?"

"Okay," Harry said. I saw Fred wink at Harry as we passed him on the way out of the portrait hole.

The walk down was mostly quiet. Neville, Dean, and Seamus were talking about what kind of food there’d be. Ron was still skulking, walking with a hunched back. Parvati led the pack of us, walking briskly. I accidentally fell in line with Harry, whom I had been trying to avoid.

“You, um, you look beautiful,” Harry whispered so low that I thought I had imagined it.

I turned away, pretending to look at the paintings, as I felt my cheeks warm. I took a few breaths and turned back, “Thanks Harry. You look dashing.”

I took the time now to look at his robes properly. They were a forest green that suited his colouring and eyes perfectly. I would never say it out loud but Harry looked absolutely drool-worthy. He hadn’t done much to his hair, but it suited his overall ensemble. He looked put together but not like he cared much about it.

The Entrance Hall was packed with students, all milling around waiting for eight o'clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would be thrown open. Those people who were meeting partners from different Houses were edging through the crowd trying to find one another. Parvati found her sister, Padma, and led her over to our group.

"Hi," Padma said, who was looking just as pretty as Parvati in robes of bright turquoise. She didn't look too enthusiastic about having Ron as a partner, though; her dark eyes lingered on the frayed neck and sleeves of his dress robes as she looked him up and down.

"Hi," Ron said, not looking at her, but staring around at the crowd. "Oh no…"

He bent his knees slightly to hide behind Harry, because Fleur Delacour was passing, looking stunning in robes of silver-grey satin, and accompanied by the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, Roger Davies. When they had disappeared, Ron stood straight again and stared over the heads of the crowd.

"Where is Hermione?" he said again.

“You’ll find out soon,” I said mysteriously.

A group of Slytherins came up the steps from their dungeon living space. Malfoy was in front; he was wearing dress robes of black velvet with a high collar, which in my opinion made him look like a vicar. Pansy Parkinson, in very frilly robes of pale pink, was clutching Malfoy's arm.

“You look as handsome as ever, Weasel,” he said as he passed by.

Ron immediately turned pink.

“Eat Skrewt shit, Malfoy,” I said, taking a step towards him.

He turned on his heel, his black robes swirling with him. “What did you say, Masterson?”

“I believe you heard me,” I crossed my arms. “ _Eat. Skrewt. Shit. Malfoy._ ”

Malfoy’s hands, which had been resting on either side of him, clenched into fists. Beside him, Pansy’s mouth hung open. “Just because you’re pureblood doesn’t mean that you’ll get away with saying that.”

“Wow, I’m so scared,” I said, pretending to tremble.

“When my father hears about this –”

“Oh, your _ferret_ father?” I asked. “Again, absolutely trembling.”

All colour drained from Malfoy’s face, no doubt his short time as a ferret still fresh in his mind. He turned again and walked away, Pansy and his cronies chasing his heels.

“Thanks, Hazel,” Ron said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“That little shit needed to be put in his place.” I inhaled deeply to calm down.

“You shouldn’t have been so crass,” Parvati sighed.

“Parvati, I want us all to have a good night,” I closed my eyes. “Don’t tell me how to live my life, okay?”

Parvati was taken aback. I knew I shouldn’t have been so cross with her but the amalgamation of emotions I was feeling at the moment wanted to come out.

The oak front doors opened and everyone turned to look as the Durmstrang students entered with Professor Karkaroff. Krum was at the front of the party, accompanied by a very pretty Hermione. Over their heads I saw that an area of lawn right in front of the castle had been transformed into a sort of grotto full of fairy lights - meaning hundreds of actual living fairies were sitting in the rosebushes that had been conjured there and fluttering over the statues of what seemed to be Father Christmas and his reindeer.

Then Professor McGonagall's voice called, "Champions over here, please!"

Parvati readjusted her bangles, beaming; she and Harry said, "See you in a minute" to the rest of us and walked forward, the chattering crowd parting to let them through. Professor McGonagall, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan and had arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat. Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies stationed themselves nearest the doors; Davies looked so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he could hardly take his eyes off her. Cedric and Cho were close to Harry too. I watched as Harry’s eyes fell instead on the girl next to Krum. His jaw dropped.

I laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Ron asked.

“Nothing…”

Parvati was gazing at Hermione in unflattering disbelief. She wasn't the only one either; when the doors to the Great Hall opened, Krum's fan club from the library stalked past, throwing Hermione looks of deepest loathing. Pansy Parkinson gaped at her as she walked by with Malfoy, and even he didn't seem to be able to find an insult to throw at her. Ron, however, walked right past Hermione without looking at her. I shyly waved at Harry as we passed, my arm looped with Neville’s. Having complimented him earlier appeared to have eased my nerves somewhat.

Cedric, I saw, was wearing robes of grey. They fit his body perfectly, showing his lean build. His light brown hair was combed back and gelled lightly. His robes went well with Cho’s dress of white. As Neville and I passed, Cedric smiled at me. I returned it briefly and turned away, trying to focus my attentions elsewhere.

Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as they entered and started walking up toward a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.

The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

Harry concentrated on his feet while Parvati seemed to be enjoying herself; she was beaming around at everybody, steering Harry so forcefully (and so obviously) as though he were a show dog she was putting through its paces. He caught sight of Ron and I as he neared the top table. We weren’t seated that far from him, actually. Ron was watching Hermione pass with narrowed eyes. Padma was looking sulky.

Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table, but Karkaroff wore an expression remarkably like Ron's as he watched Krum and Hermione draw nearer. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. But Mr. Crouch, I suddenly realized, was not there. The fifth seat at the table was occupied by Percy Weasley.

When the champions and their partners reached the table, Percy drew out the empty chair beside him, staring pointedly at Harry. Harry took the hint and sat down next to Percy, who was wearing an expression of such smugness that I thought it ought to be fined.

Many of the people in at the head table began to speak to one another so I turned to look at my table. Michael and Ginny had been able to find us when we were all being seated and joined our table. Otherwise, there was Ron and Padma, Seamus and Lavender, Dean and Faye, a Hufflepuff couple I didn’t know, and of course, Neville and me.

“Thanks for coming with me, Neville,” I said quietly.

“No, thank you, Hazel, for being a friend.”

I blushed and smiled at him.

There was no food as of yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus were lying in front of each of us. I picked mine up uncertainly and looked around - there were no waiters. Dumbledore, I noticed, looked carefully down at his own menu, then said very clearly to his plate, "Pork chops!"

And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of his table placed their orders with their plates too. I did the same. Soon, all our plates were full and we began to eat. Ron, completely ignoring Padma, was shovelling food into his mouth as usual while Neville and I had a great conversation about Herbology. His great enthusiasm for the subject was enough to make what would normally be a boring conversation, interesting.

When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments and the lanterns on all the tables had gone out.

The champions had gotten up as well and lined up. The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune; the champions walked onto the brightly lit dance floor. Seamus and Dean were waving at Harry and sniggering when Parvati had seized his hands, placed one around her waist, and was holding the other tightly in hers. I frowned. Not far from them, Cedric had Cho in a perfect dancer’s grip.

Altogether, the champions started dancing slowly on the spot. Parvati was steering Harry forcefully, the surprise evident on his face. Cedric was talking to Cho as he twirled her back and forth to the beat. Viktor had a wistful smile as he danced with Hermione. From the look on her face, she as enjoying it.

“Want to dance?” Neville asked, standing up.

“Uh,” I stared at the hand he held out, “sure.”

We danced very closely to the champions, having been one of the first to the floor.

"Nice socks. Potter," Moody growled as he passed, his magical eye staring through Harry's robes.

"Oh - yeah, Dobby the house-elf knitted them for me," Harry said, grinning.

"He is so creepy!" Parvati whispered as Moody clunked away. "I don't think that eye should be allowed." I rolled my eyes at her.

I heard the final, quavering note from the bagpipe, and the Weird Sisters stopped playing. Applause filled the hall once more and Harry let go of Parvati at once.

"Let's sit down, shall we?"

I looked over Neville’s shoulder at them. Parvati had her hands on her hips and frowned at Harry.

"Oh - but - this is a really good one!" Parvati said as the Weird Sisters struck up a new song, which was much faster.

“No, I don't like it," Harry said and he led her away from the dance floor, past Fred and Angelina, who were dancing so exuberantly that people around them were backing away in fear of injury, and over to the table where Ron and Padma were sitting, having never gotten up.

Harry looked miserable as he sat there, watching the crowd of people absentmindedly. He looked up then, catching my eye and holding it. I swallowed and looked to Ron. I followed Ron’s line of vision to Hermione, who was enjoying herself quite obviously. She and Krum were getting along, despite the language barrier.

“’Er-me-knee?” Krum said slowly.

Hermione shook her head but she wasn’t annoyed, “ _Hermione_.”

“Her-me-on-nene,” He repeated.

She laughed, “Almost there…”

I shook my head at Ron. If you to wait too long, you lose out on opportunities. You can’t expect someone to wait forever.

Next to Hermione and Krum were Cedric and Cho. He was smiled briefly down at the petite Sixth-Year, who was grinning widely up at him. As if by magic, he turned his head to where I stood, and nodded. I was caught off guard and shrugged before focusing solely on Neville.

Neville and I danced for a few more songs. He wasn’t the most coordinated person, he probably wouldn’t do well on the Quidditch field, but Neville surprised me by only stepping on my foot three times during five songs.

I was so caught up in the silly moves we were making for ‘ _Firewhisky Flames_ ’ that when it ended, I didn’t immediately notice when someone tapped Neville on the shoulder.

“May I cut in?” Cedric asked, smiling gently at Neville. My breath caught in my throat.

Neville grinned and let go of me at once, “Of course!”

Cedric swiftly replaced what had once been Neville’s hands and smiled down at me, “May I have this dance, Miss Masterson, or is your dance card full?”

Feeling lightheaded, I took a deep breath, “What about Cho?” I looked around for her.

“She’s dancing with Henry Thoms from her year,” he raised an eyebrow, “Would you like to dance or am I too late?”

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “Nay sir, my dance card hath a few slots left.”

He chuckled and corrected our posture. “Aren’t I lucky?” He asked as the Weird Sisters played a waltz.

Cedric knew how to dance, that much was apparent. Neville and I had only been playing around with our moves, Cedric was on another level. I knew how to do the most basic steps of certain dances, but nothing noteworthy. Cedric led me with a very firm grip.

“Have you been enjoying the night’s festivities?” Cedric asked.

I noticed that although the lights on the dance floor had been initially bright, they were dimmer now. I looked past Cedric and to one of the floating lanterns when I said, “One could say that…”

“But what do _you_ say?” He asked, twirling me.

I shrugged, “I’m neither here nor there.”

“I hope to change your opinion on that,” he said, looking at me.

I turned away, unable to meet his gaze. I watched the other dancers as Cedric continued to lead me a little more. Hagrid and Madame Maxine were dancing now and the former had the goofiest look on his face. Some teachers had chosen to sit down, Professor Sinistra and Professor Moody were talking over some finger sandwiches. McGonagall and Dumbledore were talking at length but had their eyes focused on the students. During the beginning of the following song, their sights rested on me. I paled but my head of house just gave me a curt nod.

Feeling as though enough time had passed, I looked back at Cedric. He was already looking at me, “I don’t think the chance to say so yet Hazel, but you look entirely striking tonight.”

Nothing, no spell, could stop the blush that overwhelmed me.

“You’re just saying that, but thanks.” I said, looking at his shoulder.

The hand that had been burning a hole on my waist disappeared and reappeared under my chin. Cedric lifted my face to meet his, “I, you will come to learn, do not do or say things unless I absolutely mean them.” His eyes softened, “Okay?”

“Okay,” I said breathlessly. “Let’s change the subject? I’m an awkward person.”

A few seconds passed.

“You remind me of the stars tonight,” he stated, looking up at the ceiling.

I looked up as well, calming down as I watched the twinkling stars.

The song was ending, the final note reverberating through the Hall. From the ceiling, hundreds of mistletoes appeared, lowering themselves towards all the dancers. I looked away and met Cedric’s darkened eyes. They flashed with a mysterious emotion and his gaze travelled down my face.

It was suddenly hard for me to breathe and I began to tremble. It was hard to think straight. I pulled away from Cedric and ran towards the Entrance Hall.

“Hazel!” He called after me. I could hear his footsteps behind mine but I kept running. When I reached the Entrance Hall, where there were couples scattered here and there, I turned and ran out the main doors.

I stopped in a small alcove of bushes which had a stone bench in the middle. A couple dozen fairies were hovering in place, casting a warm glow to the area.

“Stop overthinking everything,” I said to myself. “Come on, be normal!” My breaths were coming in short bursts now…but whether it had been from the running or from the Hall, I didn’t know.

“Hazel,” Cedric said breathlessly from behind me.

My face warmed again and I couldn’t bear to turn around. Cedric walked around and stood before me. I looked to the ground, swallowing.

“What’s wrong?” He didn’t move forward but his voice filled my ears like he was speaking directly into them.

“I-I’m fine, go back inside.” I looked at the hem of my dress, hoping its likeness to the stars would calm me down.

“You’re obviously not fine,” Cedric’s tone was a little more forceful.

I met his eyes, which were so filled with concern, and I calmed a little. “Can’t you just take my word for it and enjoy the rest of your night?” I rubbed my arms, trying to keep my hands busy. “You’re a champion, this is your night off, go make the best of it.”

“I can’t do that when you’re out here…hurting,” his expression turned from concern to sad, “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” My voice came out louder than I had expected, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then what’s wrong?” He shrugged out of his outer coat and placed it around my shoulders. I reached to grab it by the lapel to return to him but his hand covered mine, “No, leave it on. I’m plenty warm.” He squeezed it briefly and let go again. “What’s wrong?”

I had been so vulnerable lately, something I didn’t like to feel, that I hesitated to answer Cedric. “I’m okay.” I pleaded to him with my eyes, hoping he’d let it go.

Cedric plopped onto the stone bench, “If you don’t want to tell me now, that’s fine. I have time. I’ll stay out here until July if necessary.”

I shook my head at him. I knew he was only being the good man that he was, but there was no need to put more things on his plate than necessary. “Tell the Giant Squid hi for me, then.”

His voice softened, “Come on, Sunflower.”

“Sunflower?” I said, confused. “Why of all things would you call me _Sunflower_?”

“A few reasons,” he said with a playful smile, “One, you’re both strangely tall and weird. Two, you both bring me joy. And finally, there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

I blushed again, hoping it was too dark to notice. Cedric stood up and walked towards me. 

“You can trust me,” he whispered.

“It’s just…” I picked at imaginary fibres on the coat he lent me, “ever since…you know…” I fought to keep the tears back and my voice steady. I wasn’t going to let myself break again. “I just haven’t felt comfortable in my own body.” I inhaled deeply. “A part of me thinks my body isn’t my own anymore. How could _I_ let it happen?”

“Hazel, it was out of your control. It was that bastard’s fault. I know you know this.” He paused. “Hey, look at me.”

I glanced up again.

“Your body is yours, no one else’s,” he looked heartbroken. “Got it?”

I shrugged, “I guess.” I wanted to agree with him, I wanted to agree with him so badly…but the thoughts wouldn’t stop coming.

“I know you’re not being wholehearted,” he searched my eyes. “You know what, you need others to tell you this all the time. Maybe you can tell at least one other person so that they can be your moral support, like I’m trying to be.”

“I’ve told a few others now,” I managed to say. “Harry and Hermione. Not at the same time…but I still told them.”

“That’s good,” he smiled encouragingly. “lean on them.”

“But I don’t really know them, I mean…I do…I know them, but I don’t know enough about how they feel about me for me to continue to lean on them for support. All I know is that they’ve been very understanding up to this point.”

Cedric cupped my face in his hand and I gasped slightly from the touch. It was very cold outside but his hand was warm. “You must know by now that I’m someone you can rely on here at Hogwarts. No matter what, I’ll always be there for you. Just know that.”

I involuntarily leaned into his hand as I closed my eyes to process what he had said. “Words are easy to say…” I whispered.

“Well, I’m here right now, aren’t I?”

I nodded and pulled away from him.

“I know,” he stepped back a little, “that you’ll be there for me too.”

“How can you be so sure?” I asked.

“I just am,” Cedric shrugged. “You’re the only person I’ve told about my anxieties, you know. I trust you.”

Before I could convince myself otherwise, I pulled Cedric in for a hug. He immediately returned it, squeezing me tightly.

“Come on, let’s go back in, you’re shaking like a leaf.” He said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders

Our journey back to the castle was very short, we hadn’t gone that far in the first place. In the warmth of the Entrance Hall, I slipped out of Cedric’s coat.

“Here,” I said, holding it out to him.

“No, it’s cold,” he refused.

“It’s warm in here, I’m okay now.” I smiled, “Anyway, we don’t want to mess with your perfectly cultivated look, do we?” I gestured to him with a flourish.

He laughed, taking the garment from me. “I’m happy you’ve finally noticed. I clean up well, don’t I?”

“As it’s Christmas, I’ll give that to you,” I giggled. “Oh!” I cried, “I’ve just remembered, I got you something…but I forgot it upstairs.”

He smiled widely, “Oh, you did, did you?”

“Oh, shut up.” I slapped his arm.

“Well, it just so happens that I got you something as well.” He put his arms behind his back. “Why don’t we agree to exchange them tomorrow, say, before breakfast? If they still have the decorations out there tomorrow, let’s meet outside again.”

“Alright,” I rolled my eyes.

We stepped towards the precipice of the Great Hall. “Up for another dance?” Cedric extended his hand.

“I’m going to sit down for a second,” I said, “Emotionally recharge and all that.”

He smiled gently, “Alright…but you’ll need to dance with me again before the night’s over!”

“I’ll think about it…” I called behind me as I walked to where Ron and Harry were sitting.

The table, even from far away, looked sombre. Ron was grimacing, the Patil twins were scowling, and Harry seemed not completely there.

“Hey guys,” I said, smiling at everyone. I was in a better mood now, still raw, but better.

“Where’ve you been?” Ron growled.

“Needed air,” I replied, knowing that this anger was not for any perceived slight from my end.

“It _is_ stuffy in here.” Harry said, looking to me.

I sat in the empty chair next to him and surveyed the room. Hermione was still on the dance floor with Krum, dancing with gusto I would have never expected from here. Ron was staring at her and shaking his head in disapproval evert so often. A mostly full glass of meade was in front of Harry, and up until that point, I hadn’t realised how parched I was.

“Harry, may I?” I asked, gesturing to the cup.

“Wha-?” He turned around, “Oh, yeah…” Harry smiled. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” I swallowed its contents in a single gulp.

Cedric was now dancing with a Hufflepuff girl in his year, smiling pleasantly as he did so. I watched with mild curiosity and an odd emotion passing through me.

Hermione came over and sat down in the empty chair to my right. She was a bit pink in the face from dancing.

"Hi," Harry and I said in unison. Ron didn't say anything.

"It's hot, isn't it?" Hermione said, fanning herself with her hand. "Viktor's just gone to get some drinks."

Ron gave her a withering look. "Viktor?" he said. "Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"

Hermione looked at him in surprise. "What's up with you?" she said.

"If you don't know," Ron said scathingly, "I'm not going to tell you."

Hermione stared at him, then at me, then at Harry, who shrugged.

"Ron, what -?"

“He's from Durmstrang!" Ron spat. "He's competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You - you're -" Ron was obviously casting around for words strong enough to describe Hermione's crime, "fraternizing with the enemy, that's what you're doing!"

Hermione's mouth fell open. "Don't be so stupid!" she said after a moment. "The enemy! Honestly - who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory?"

Ron chose to ignore this. "I s'pose he asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?"

"Yes, he did," Hermione said, the pink patches on her cheeks glowing more brightly. "So what?"

"What happened - trying to get him to join spew, were you?"

"No, I wasn't! If you really want to know, he - he said he'd been coming up to the library every day to try and talk to me, but he hadn't been able to pluck up the courage!" Hermione said this very quickly and blushed so deeply that she was the same colour as Parvati's robes.

“Yeah, well - that's his story," Ron said nastily.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Obvious, isn't it? He's Karkaroff's student, isn't he? He knows who you hang around with, he's just trying to get closer to Harry - get inside information on him - or get near enough to jinx him -"

Hermione looked as though Ron had slapped her. When she spoke, her voice quivered. "For your information, he hasn't asked me one single thing about Harry, not one -"

Ron changed tack at the speed of light. "Then he's hoping you'll help him find out what his egg means! I suppose you've been putting your heads together during those cosy little library sessions -"

"I'd never help him work out that egg!" Hermione said, looking outraged. "Never. How could you say something like that - I want Harry to win the tournament. Harry knows that, don't you, Harry?"

"You've got a funny way of showing it," Ron sneered.

“This whole tournament's supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!" Hermione said hotly.

“No it isn't!" Ron shouted. "It's about winning!"

People were starting to stare at them.

"Ron," Harry said quietly, "I haven't got a problem with Hermione coming with Krum -"

But Ron ignored Harry too.

“Ron,” I said in low tone, using my body to shield Hermione, “if you don’t calm the fuck down and shut the fuck up, I won’t hesitate to hex you and tattle to Percy…who will undoubtedly tell your mother.”

He looked at me, as if only noticing me for the first time, and glowered. “Fine, see if I care.” He turned to Hermione. "Why don't you go and find Vicky, he'll be wondering where you are.”

"Don't call him Vicky!" Hermione jumped to her feet and stormed off across the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd. Ron watched her go with a mixture of anger and satisfaction on his face.

"Are you going to ask me to dance at all?" Padma asked him.

"No," said Ron, still glaring after Hermione. 

“Parvati, let’s go the bathroom.” Padma grabbed her sister’s hand and dragged her away despite her protests.

“But—Harry—dance!”

"Vare is Herm-own-ninny?" said a voice.

Krum had just arrived at the table clutching two butterbeers.

Ron opened his mouth but I spoke before him, “She went to go find you, she’s back on the floor.”

Krum looked surly for a moment but smiled at me, “Thank you.” And he slouched off.

"Made friends with Viktor Krum, have you, Ron?" Percy had bustled over, rubbing his hands together and looking extremely pompous. "Excellent! That's the whole point, you know –international magical cooperation!"

“Hazel,” Harry said suddenly, “would you like to dance?”

I was surprised by his request and blushed immediately. “Uh, yeah, of course.”

He stood and slipped his hand into mine, leading me to the dance floor. The touch felt intimate for reason, but I didn’t pull away. We stopped just out of eyesight of Ron and Percy, and Harry began to lead. We rocked side to side in tandem to the beat of the song. We weren’t speaking but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Rather, I felt infinitely calmer. I wasn’t overthinking anything in that moment even though there were only inches separating Harry and me.

“I know I said it already,” Harry said quietly, “but you look uh – very pretty.”

“Thank you,” I said, turning my face to the side to hide my pink cheeks, “You look quite pretty yourself.”

He chuckled and I turned back to him. His cheeks were flushed, but probably from the heat in the Great Hall and from the dancing. “You wanted to get away from Percy just now, didn’t you?”

“No” he turned redder still, the heat getting to him, “I _wanted_ to dance with you.”

“Oh.” I said simply, nodding like I understood. “Cool.”

_Hazel, don’t start over thinking now. Just calm down and enjoy yourself._

The song transitioned to a faster one and we modified our moves to compensate. We were smiling goofily now, much like I was with Neville, our silly moves were _too_ good. It reminded me of Angelina and Fred of from earlier in the night. We danced to a few more songs, all upbeat, when another slow tune crooned from the instruments.

Harry looked shyly down at his shoes and pulled me closer to slow dance. Unable to look into his eyes, I turned my head to the side as we danced. We weren’t talking again so I began to doubt my actions earlier in the night. Was I right in trusting another person? I looked to Harry briefly and thought about how he’d been so good at making me feel as comfortable as possible at Hogwarts. He didn’t need to keep including me with his friends, but he did, and for that I was grateful. But a thought hit me in the chest like an arrow…I couldn’t get attached…at least not any more than I was now. There was a possibility that the rug would be pulled out from underneath me. I was already more attached than normal. It takes ages for me to warm up and open to people…

_But Harry just has a way of making me calm…_

I could vaguely hear Harry hum as my mind wandered. It was not the song playing, but something a little similar. The sound of it soothed me and I closed my eyes. Listening to him hum stopped my racing thoughts and had allowed me to settle down. _There’s no need for having a panic attack at the Yule Ball._

I opened my eyes and noticed that the world was slightly askew. My eyes travelled from side to side, trying to figure out what was going on. _Is this some weird enchantment on the Hall?_

I turned my head slightly and was met with Harry’s shoulder. _Oh fuck. Oh, fuck me. I was laying on his shoulder. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuc—_

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, looking down, “I was just lost in thought for a second there and I don’t know—”

“It’s okay, Hazel,” Harry said gently, “I didn’t mind.”

“Oh, you didn’t?” I said meekly. _Would it be possible for the ground to swallow me whole?_

I looked up and found Harry shaking his head.

“Not at all…”

The final notes of the slow song came to an end. A series of cheers rang around the Hall and when I looked around to see what was going on, once more, from the ceiling, mistletoes were appearing.

I looked back at Harry quickly and he looked back at me. I began to blush very deeply and if I wasn’t mistaken, as was he.

“It’s a little hot in here,” Harry said. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

“Yes!” I said a little too enthusiastically.

Our hands, which had been intertwined while we were dancing, were still that way as we walked out of the Hall. I looked at it but didn’t dare pull away. I was still focused on the hand when we stopped just before the doors of the Entrance Hall. I looked to Harry who pulled out of our hold on each other.

“Here, it’s cold outside, you can wear this,” he slipped off his outer coat and helped me put it on.

I was at a loss for words so all I could say was, “Uh, thanks, Harry.”

He smiled and nodded. He turned to go out the doors of the Entrance Hall and as he did, he took my hand in his again. “It’s dark outside,” he muttered, “don’t want to get lost.”

I nodded, not caring that he couldn’t see me.

The front doors stood open, and the fluttering fairy lights in the rose garden winked and twinkled as we went down the front steps, where we found ourselves surrounded by bushes. In all my melodrama earlier, I hadn’t realised or remembered that the Hogwarts grounds weren’t normally this, well, beautiful. There were winding, ornamental paths, large stone statues, and trees everywhere. I could hear splashing water, which sounded like a fountain. Here and there, people were sitting on carved benches. We set off along one of the winding paths through the rosebushes.

The beautiful atmosphere and crisp air reinvigorated me, the coldness was helping mellow out the warmness of my cheeks. Still, as we walked, Harry held my hand. He didn’t say anything but he wasn’t leading me anymore. We were walking side by side, taking it all in.

The snow clouds from earlier in the day were gone now, showing a waning gibbous moon. The stars twinkled and I reached for my locket, touching it fondly.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Harry asked softly. From the corner of my eye I could see him turn to look at me, so I did the same.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “It’s funny, a lot of the time people only remark on the moon’s beauty when it’s full, you don’t.”

“I think that the moon is beautiful at every stage,” he turned back to the moon, “once you realise that, you never forget it.”

“How poetic,” I teased, squeezing his hand. He squeezed back.

We walked a little bit further but we had gone only a short way when we heard an unpleasantly familiar voice.

“…don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor."

"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Karkaroff’s voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it -"

"Then flee," Snape said curtly. "Flee - I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."

Snape and Karkaroff came around the corner. Snape had his wand out and was blasting rosebushes apart, his expression most ill-natured. Squeals issued from many of the bushes, and dark shapes emerged from them.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!" Snape snarled as a girl ran past him. "And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!" as a boy went rushing after her.

"And what are you two doing?" he added, catching sight of Harry and I on the path ahead of them. Karkaroff, I saw, looked slightly discomposed to see us standing here. His hand went nervously to his goatee, and he began winding it around his finger.

"We’re walking," Harry told Snape shortly. "Not against the law, is it?" I squeezed his hand from antagonizing the situation further.

"Keep walking, then!" Snape snarled, and he brushed past us, his long black cloak billowing out behind him. Karkaroff hurried away after Snape. Harry and I continued down the path.

"What's got Karkaroff all worried?" I muttered.

"And since when have he and Snape been on first-name terms?" Harry said slowly.

We had reached a large stone reindeer now, over which I could see the sparkling jets of a tall fountain. The shadowy outlines of two enormous people were visible on a stone bench, watching the water in the moonlight. And then I heard Hagrid speak.

"Momen' I saw yeh, I knew," he was saying, in an oddly husky voice.

Harry and I froze. This didn't sound like the sort of scene we ought to walk in on, somehow. I looked around, back up the path, and saw Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies standing half-concealed in a rosebush nearby. I tapped Harry on the shoulder and jerked my head toward them, meaning that we could easily sneak off that way without being noticed (Fleur and Davies looked very busy to me), but Harry shook his head vigorously and pulled me deeper into the shadows behind the reindeer.

"What did you know, 'Agrid?" Madame Maxime said, a purr in her low voice.

I definitely didn't want to listen to this; I knew Hagrid would hate to be overheard in a situation like this (I certainly would have) - if it had been possible I would have put my fingers in my ears and hummed loudly, but that wasn't really an option. For one, he would hear. Secondly, it would mean letting go of Harry’s hand…which I wasn’t sure I wasn’t to do at the moment…it was cold. I saw Harry to interest himself in a beetle crawling along the stone reindeer's back, but the beetle just wasn't interesting enough to block out Hagrid's next words.

“I jus' knew…knew you were like me. Was it yer mother or yer father?"

"I - I don't know what you mean, 'Agrid."

"It was my mother," Hagrid said quietly. "She was one o' the las' ones in Britain. 'Course, I can' remember her too well. She left, see. When I was abou' three. She wasn' really the maternal sort. Well, it's not in their natures, is it? Dunno what happened to her…might be dead fer all I know…"

Madame Maxime didn't say anything. And I, in spite of myself, took my eyes off the beetle and looked over the top of the reindeer's antlers, listening.

"Me dad was broken-hearted when she wen'. Tiny little bloke, my dad was. By the time I was six I could lift him up an' put him on top o' the dresser if he annoyed me. Used ter make him laugh." Hagrid's deep voice broke. Madame Maxime was listening, motionless, apparently staring at the silvery fountain. "Dad raised me, but he died, o' course, jus' after I started school. Sorta had ter make me own way after that. Dumbledore was a real help, mind. Very kind ter me, he was…"

Hagrid pulled out a large spotted silk handkerchief and blew his nose heavily.

"So, anyway, enough abou' me. What about you? Which side you got it on?"

But Madame Maxime had suddenly got to her feet.

"It is chilly," she said - but whatever the weather was doing, it was nowhere near as cold as her voice. "I think I will go in now."

"Eh?" said Hagrid blankly. "No, don go! I've - I've never met another one before!"

"Anuzzer what, precisely?" Madame Maxime said, her tone icy. 

I could have told Hagrid it was best not to answer; I stood there in the shadows gritting my teeth, hoping against hope he wouldn't - but it was no good.

"Another half-giant, o' course!" Hagrid said.

"'Ow dare you!" shrieked Madame Maxime. Her voice exploded through the peaceful night air like a foghorn. I heard Fleur and Roger fall out of their rosebush. "I 'ave nevair been more insulted in my life! 'Alf-giant? Moi? I 'ave - I 'ave big bones!"

She stormed away; great multi-coloured swarms of fairies rose into the air as she passed, angrily pushing aside bushes. Hagrid was still sitting on the bench, staring after her. It was much too dark to make out his expression. Then, after about a minute, he stood up and strode away, not back to the castle, but off out into the dark grounds in the direction of his cabin.

"C'mon," Harry said, very quietly to me. "Let's go…"

"Did you know?" I whispered. "About Hagrid being half-giant?"

"No," Harry said, shrugging. "So what?"

"I'll explain inside," I said quietly, "c'mon…"

Fleur and Roger Davies had disappeared, probably into a more private clump of bushes. Harry and I returned to the Entrance Hall. From where I stood, I could see Parvati and Padma were now sitting at a distant table with a whole crowd of Beauxbatons boys, and Hermione was once more dancing with Krum.

There was a broom cupboard on the opposite side of the Hall that I dragged Harry to.

"So?" Harry prompted. "What's the problem with giants?"

"Well, they're not known to have the best reputation. " I struggled for words.

"Who cares?" Harry said. "There's nothing wrong with Hagrid!"

"I know there isn't, he’s very sweet,” I said, shaking my head. "But other wizards don’t have the same opinion.”

"But what's it matter if his mother was a giantess?" Harry said.

"Well, no one who knows him will care, because they'll know he's not dangerous," I said slowly. "But, Harry, they're just…uh…not nice.” I took a deep breath. “In the war, most sided with the Dark Lord, which only made things worse for their reputation. There aren't any left in Britain now, though."

“What happened to them?"

“Well, they were dying out anyway, and then loads got themselves killed by Aurors. There're supposed to be giants abroad, though, they hide out in mountains mostly."

"I don't know who Maxime thinks she's kidding," Harry said, when we walked out of the cupboard. He was watching Madame Maxime sitting alone at the judges' table, looking very sombre. "If Hagrid's half-giant, she definitely is. Big bones…the only thing that's got bigger bones than her is a dinosaur."

Harry and I re-entered the Great Hall where Harry ran to tell Ron immediately. I sat next to them for a moment before Dean asked me to dance.

He and I had not interacted much since my arrival to Hogwarts, but he was an amiable guy and a great dancer. Hannah Abbott cut in after a few songs but I didn’t mind. I was in the middle of deciding to go back to the table or trying to find Hermione when someone called my name.

I turned, knowing immediately who it was. “Yes, _Cedric_?”

“Well, _Hazel_ …or actually, I’m sorry, _Sunflower_ , you promised me another dance before the night’s end.” He smiled haughtily down at me.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, _Cedric_ , but I remember saying that I’d think about it. I never agreed.” I crossed my arms.

“Can you deny this handsome face?” He asked, cupping his chin.

“Easily,” I said, scoffing.

“Come on,” he stepped forward and held out a hand, “will you dance with me?”

I put a finger to my chin, pretending to think about it. “Will you promise to buy me a pony?”

Cedric smiled, “The best one available. You can name it after me.”

“Ahhh, so you’re admitting that you look like a horse?” I held back a smile.

He laughed, “Come on, let’s go.”

We danced like idiots to a few upbeat songs, smiling all the while. At the beginning of a slow one, I noticed a crumb on his cheek. “Uh,” I giggled, “you have something on your cheek.”

His eyes widened, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Excuse me, I only noticed right now. I try not to look at your mug too much.”

“My good looks too much for you?”

“Quite the contrary,” I replied. I reached up and plucked the crumb of what looked like cake off his cheek. “See,” I lifted the offending speck to show him.

In one fluid motion, he lowered his face and licked the cake off my finger. I didn’t move but I blushed immediately.

“See,” he teased, “now it’s gone.”

I lightly slapped his arm, “You dolt.”

He shrugged and continued to dance, a large smile on his face. I didn’t want him to see my amusement so I looked away and made immediate, accidental eye contact with Cho Chang. She was watching us carefully, her head tilted. Her dancing partner didn’t notice her lack of attention and kept talking to her.

“Er, Cedric,” I said, “I think your date is a little miffed.”

“Huh, what? Who?” He asked, looking confused.

“Cho,” I said, “she’s staring at us.”

“Don’t mind her,” he looked over and smiled at her. She returned it at once.

“Her current partner might be a bore, go save her.”

“She looks okay.”

“Nah,” I smiled, “go save her. My feet are starting to hurt anyway.”

Cedric frowned slightly, “Are you sure?”

“Completely.”

“Alright, then.”

We pulled apart and he bowed. “Oh, stop it.” I laughed.

“Happy Christmas, Hazel.”

“Happy Christmas, Cedric.”

Harry and Ron were still deep in discussion when I found our table.

“So, she denies it,” Ron said, looking at Madame Maxine.

Harry nodded.

I drank some water from a pitcher on the table and listened absentmindedly to the boys. It wasn’t until the announcement of “Final dance” that I came to.

“Wanna dance?” Harry asked.

I rolled my eyes, “Have you improved since our last bout?”

“Undoubtedly.”

When the Weird Sisters finished playing at midnight, everyone gave them a last, loud round of applause and started to fend their way into the Entrance Hall. Many people were expressing the wish that the ball could have gone on longer, but I was perfectly happy to be going to bed; I was drained.

Out in the Entrance Hall, Harry, Ron, and I saw Hermione saying good night to Krum before he went back to the Durmstrang ship. She gave Ron a very cold look and swept past him up the Marble Staircase without speaking. We followed her, with Ron shouting at her, but halfway up the staircase someone was calling Harry.

"Hey – Harry!"

It was Cedric. I could see Cho waiting for him in the Entrance Hall below.

"Yeah?" Harry said as Cedric ran up the stairs toward him.

Cedric looked as though he didn't want to say whatever it was in front of Ron and I. Ron shrugged, looking bad-tempered, and continued to climb the stairs. I followed him.

At the top of the stairs, Ron took to shouting at Hermione again and I hid just off to the side, watching Harry and Cedric.

"Listen…" Cedric lowered his voice. "I owe you one for telling me about the dragons. You know that golden egg? Does yours wail when you open it?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

“Well, take a bath, okay?"

“What?"

"Take a bath, and - er - take the egg with you, and - er - just mull things over in the hot water. It'll help you think…Trust me."

Harry didn’t move.  

"Tell you what," Cedric said, "use the prefects' bathroom. Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password's ' _Pine Fresh_ '. Gotta go…”

He grinned at Harry again and hurried back down the stairs to Cho.

I jogged to be a little further ahead and then walked very slowly so Harry could catch up.

“What did he want?” I asked.

“He gave me a clue to the egg…I think?”

We mulled over what his hint could have meant. It had been extremely strange advice. Why would a bath help Harry to work out what the wailing egg meant? Was Cedric pulling his leg? I doubted that…but none of it made sense.

The Fat Lady and her friend Vi were snoozing in the picture over the portrait hole. Harry had to yell " _Fairy Lights_!" before he woke them up, and when he did, they were extremely irritated. We climbed into the common room and found Ron and Hermione having a blazing row. Standing ten feet apart, they were bellowing at each other, each scarlet in the face.

"Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?" Hermione yelled; her hair was coming down out of its elegant bun now, and her face was screwed up in anger.

"Oh yeah?" Ron yelled back. "What's that?"

"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"

Ron mouthed soundlessly like a goldfish out of water as Hermione turned on her heel and stormed up the girls' staircase to bed. Ron turned to look at Harry.

"Well," he sputtered, looking thunderstruck, "well - that just proves - completely missed the point -"

Harry didn't say anything and I had nothing to say. I supposed that Harry liked being back on speaking terms with Ron too much to speak his mind right now.

Ron stomped up the boys’ stairs without another word.

“They should just get married already,” I said, watching Ron leave.

“You could say that again.”

“They should just get married already,” I repeated, smiling cheekily.

Harry shook his head but smirked, “You’re weird.”

“Don’t you forget it.” I said with a curtsy.

“Good night, Hazel.” He said, pulling me into a hug.

I squeezed back and murmured into his shoulder, “Night, Haz.”

When we pulled away, I looked at him for one extra beat more before turning and running up the stairs to catch Hermione.


	15. Sopor Somnus

Everybody got up late on Boxing Day…or that’s how it felt as I travelled down empty staircases and hallways. I was wearing my thickest sweater with a thermal undershirt underneath. The snowfall was back, and with it, very cold winds. The windows back up in the girls’ dorms were completely frosted over.

All I could hear as I made my way down were my footsteps and the occasional snore from a portrait. I passed the Great Hall which had been stripped of its decorations was empty. I stopped right before the main doors and pulled my sweater over my face to keep it warm. Pushing through, I noticed that _this_  Christmas set up was still in place. I retraced my steps to where I remembered running the night before and found Cedric already there. He was bundled up as well with a thick coat and his house scarf around his neck.

“Morning, Cedric.” I said through my clothing.

He had been sitting on a bench and stood up immediately, a welcoming expression on his face. “Morning, Hazel!” Cedric walked over. “I haven’t seen you in ages! I missed you.”

I made a face at him, “It’s been around seven hours.”

“Exactly, ages!” He went back to the bench and grabbed a small box. “Here, let me go first.”

I looked at the little box, wrapped neatly in shiny paper. “It’s not a baby skrewt, is it?”

Cedric smiled, “You’ll have to open it to find out.”

I made quick work of the paper. It was a small box, not much bigger than the one Harry gave me. I swallowed…if it was expensive, there was no way I was taking it. I carefully opened the box and bit my lip when I saw its contents.

It was a simple, gold bracelet with gold sunflower charms all along it. At the centre of it was a kind of seed-shaped, deformed circle. My heart warmed at the present even though I wasn’t sure if I was going to accept it. “What is that one?” I asked, pointing at the odd charm.

Cedric looked me in the eyes and smirked, “It’s a _hazel_ nut.”

I shook my head, holding back a smile. “You’re dumb.”

“I might be,” he replied, shrugging.

I resolved that I couldn’t keep it. “I’m sorry, Cedric, I can’t accept this.”

His face turned serious and he frowned, an odd look for him. “Why not?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, “It’s too expensive, I couldn’t possibly.”

He rolled his eyes, “It wasn’t very expensive. Anyway, you should just accept it.”

“Why would you get me something like this?” I asked, touching one of the sunflowers lightly.

“Because,” he started, taking the box from me. “You mean a lot to me. I’ve only known you for a short while, but I enjoy our silly little barbs and when we’re in each other’s presence.” I held my breath, it was hard for me to comprehend what Cedric was trying to say. I knew that if I allowed him to speak further, I would only become more attached than I already was.  

“Cedric, don’t say anything too daft.” I inhaled and exhaled a few times to calm my nerves and give myself time to think. I could feel panic rise up and engulf my body. I couldn’t get attached to anyone at this school. I shrugged, “I don’t know what to say.”

An understanding crossed his face and he nodded, “I understand…But let me say this and we’ll leave it at that.” He pulled the bracelet from the box and reached for my wrist. “You always brighten up my day…and although we may not see each other that much, I relish our time together. It’s easy with you, I don’t have to put on an act…act like I’ve got it all together. You make me laugh without even trying.” He gently clasped the bracelet into place on my left wrist. “I am only trying to say that I appreciate you as a…” he paused, searching my eyes. “…friend.”

I let out a sigh within, “Oh.” My wrist was still in his hand. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, still looking into my eyes.

“I have your present in my pocket,” I said.

“Okay.” He replied.

“…I’ll need both hands?” I continued.

“Oh!” Cedric dropped my wrist.

I reached into my left jeans pocket while grabbing my wand from my right back pocket. I had shrunk his present to make it easier to bring down. I pointed at it with my wand, “ _Engorgio_.”

The box in my left palm grew back into its regular size. “Happy Christmas.”

He smiled and took the box from me. He unwrapped it more carefully than I did. “Stop opening your present like an old man!”

Cedric laughed but still was opening it prudently. He lifted the lid and laughed again, “Ah! My bag! Or, well, it looks like mine…” Cedric looked up with a smile, “how did you know that my other one ripped?”

There was no way that I was going to tell him about my eavesdropping habits, “Harry mentioned it in passing.” I pointed to the flap, “Open it!”

He did as instructed and burst out laughing, the picture underneath _was_ quite fetching. “On a scale of skrewt to veela, how becoming is that photo of me?”

Cedric took a little longer to calm down but when he did, replied, “Way past veela, you’re on a whole other scale!”

I bowed, “Hazel Masterson, Head of the Department of Public Relations of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, at your service.”

He smirked, “You’re not a Weasley, though?”

“I had the same argument with the twins but they overruled me,” I stood up straight.

“Well, thank you,” he hugged me before I realised what he was doing, “I love it.”

“I’m happy,” I said. “Now, let’s go back in, it’s freezing.”

With the bracelet dangling from my wrist, we rushed back into the Entrance Hall. There were a few people in the Great Hall, the early risers, eating their breakfasts sleepily. Cedric and I smiled as we departed ways, him to his table and I to mine.

I loaded food onto my plate and ate in silence. The past twenty-four hours had been filled with so much emotion that I was eating heartily. I was nearly halfway through when the rest of the Gryffindor Fourth-Years made it down to the Hall.

“You’re up early,” Ron grumbled.

“Good morning to you too, Ron,” I said.

Hermione sat beside me while the boys sat together across from me. I let them catch up to me by watching them for a moment each. The Sleekeazy’s we’d used on Hermione from the night before was weakening now and her hair was returning to its normal, curly state. Ronald was obviously still angry and kept shooting Hermione ferocious glares between bites. Harry, as ever, was eating his meal calmly, sometimes looking up and catching my eyes.

We were all still tired so we made our way back to the dorms where we could relax until we had regained enough energy. The Gryffindor common room was much quieter than it had been lately, many yawns punctuating the lazy conversations. After a few hours had passed, Ron and Hermione seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement not to discuss their argument. They were being quite friendly to each other, though oddly formal. Ron and Harry wasted no time in telling Hermione about the conversation Harry and I had overheard between Madame Maxime and Hagrid, but Hermione didn't seem to find the news that Hagrid was a half-giant nearly as shocking as Ron had.

"Well, I thought he must be," she said, shrugging. "I knew he couldn't be pure giant because they're about twenty feet tall. But honestly, all this hysteria about giants. They can't all be horrible…It's the same sort of prejudice that people have toward werewolves, it's just bigotry, isn't it?"

Ron looked as though he would have liked to reply scathingly, but perhaps he didn't want another row, because he contented himself with shaking his head disbelievingly while Hermione wasn't looking.

It was time now to think of the homework we had neglected during the first week of the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather flat now that Christmas was over - everybody except me, however, I was starting (once again) to feel slightly nervous for the task ahead.

The trouble was that February the twenty-fourth looked a lot closer from this side of Christmas, and Harry still hadn't done anything about working out the clue inside the golden egg. He therefore started taking the egg out of his trunk every day, opening it, and ask me to listen intently, hoping that this time it would make some sense. I strained to think what the sound reminded me of, apart from thirty musical saws, but I had never heard anything else like it.

I had not forgotten the hint that Cedric had given him, but no matter how many times I mentioned it to Harry, he kept saying that he wanted to try another way. In any case, he voiced one night, it seemed to him that if Cedric had really wanted to give Harry a hand, he would have been a lot more explicit. He argued that, he, Harry, had told Cedric exactly what was coming in the First Task - and Cedric's idea of a fair exchange had been to tell Harry to take a bath. I knew he was frustrated more than anything and acting out in accordance.

And so the first day of the new term arrived and we set off to lessons, weighed down with books, parchment, and quills as usual, but also with the lurking worry of the egg heavy in my stomach. This was another chance for Harry to be seriously injured…or worse, and that scared me. Cedric seemed to know exactly what was coming, so although I was stressed for him as well, he had more time to prepare.

Snow was still thick upon the grounds, and the greenhouse windows were covered in condensation so thick that we couldn't see out of them in Herbology. I had to fight the urge to walk over and draw shapes all over the glass that I knew that Professor Sprout wouldn’t appreciate…Although, in the end, that didn’t stop me from drawing a tiny dick when I grabbed the plant we were to work on that day. Hopefully, she wouldn’t notice.

Nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures much in this weather, though as Ron said, the skrewts would probably warm us up nicely, either by chasing us, or blasting off so forcefully that Hagrid's cabin would catch fire.

“Don’t say that, if they get loose again, I’m not going after them!” I shuddered.

When we arrived at Hagrid's cabin, however, I found an elderly witch with closely cropped grey hair and a very prominent chin standing before Hagrid’s front door.

"Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago," she barked at us as we struggled toward her through the snow.

“Who're you?" Ron said, staring at her. "Where's Hagrid?"

“My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank," she said briskly. "I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher.

"Where's Hagrid?" Harry repeated loudly. I held his forearm, as he had stepped forward with his outburst. I knew that he wasn’t going to hurt the professor but I knew he needed to be grounded at that moment…I just knew.

"He is indisposed," Professor Grubbly-Plank said shortly.

Soft and unpleasant laughter reached my ears. I turned; Draco Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins were joining the class. All of them looked gleeful, and none of them looked surprised to see Professor Grubbly-Plank.

"This way, please," Professor Grubbly-Plank said, and she strode off around the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were shivering. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I followed her, looking back over our shoulders at Hagrid's cabin. All the curtains were closed. Was Hagrid in there, alone and ill?

"What's wrong with Hagrid?" Harry said, hurrying to catch up with Professor Grubbly-Plank. My hold on his arm forced me to tag along.

"Never you mind," she said as though she thought he was being nosy.

"I do mind, though," Harry said hotly. "What's up with him?"

Professor Grubbly-Plank acted as though she couldn't hear him. She led us past the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses were standing, huddled against the cold, and toward a tree on the edge of the forest, where a large and beautiful unicorn was tethered.

Many of the girls "ooooohed!" at the sight of the unicorn.

"Oh it's so beautiful!" Lavender whispered. "How did she get it? They're supposed to be really hard to catch!"

The unicorn was so brightly white it made the snow all around look grey. It was pawing the ground nervously with its golden hooves and throwing back its horned head.

"Boys keep back!" barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, throwing out an arm and catching Harry hard in the chest. "They prefer the woman's touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care, come on, easy does it…"

I let go of Harry reluctantly, throwing him a warning look as I walked slowly forward toward the unicorn, leaving the boys standing near the paddock fence, watching. Hermione and I stood at the end of the line of girls, just a stone’s throw from Harry and Ron. The moment Professor Grubbly-Plank was out of earshot, I saw Harry turn to Ron.

"What d'you reckons wrong with him? You don't think a skrewt?"

"Oh he hasn't been attacked, Potter, if that's what you're thinking," Malfoy said softly. "No, he's just too ashamed to show his big, ugly face."

"What d'you mean?" Harry said sharply. I took a step back towards the boys, Hermione noticed and did the same. Harry and Ron could be volatile at times, especially with Malfoy present.

Malfoy put his hand inside the pocket of his robes and pulled out a folded page of newsprint.

"There you go," he said. "Hate to break it to you. Potter…"

He smirked as Harry snatched the page. The curiosity getting the better of me, I hurried over, looking back to make sure that the professor hadn’t noticed. She was new to the class anyway _and_ she hadn’t bothered taking attendance so it wasn’t like she would notice if I had wandered off. When I reached Harry, he unfolded it and read it, with Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville looking over his shoulder. It was an article topped with a picture of Hagrid looking extremely shifty.

> DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE
> 
> Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.
> 
> Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates.
> 
> An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being "very frightening."
> 
> 'I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm," says Draco Malfoy, a Fourth-Year student. "We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything."

I looked up from where I was following Harry read and found Malfoy at the centre of the Slytherins. He had a smarmy smirk on his face and you could see the pride from his idiocy all the way to where I stood. I had half a mind to hex him right there. I didn’t really care if I got in trouble, he had messed with Hagrid.

> Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed "Blast-Ended Skrewts," highly dangerous crosses between manti-cores and fire-crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions.
> 
> "I was just having some fun," he says, before hastily changing the subject.
> 
> As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not - as he has always pretended - a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown.
> 
> Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror.
> 
> While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Frid-wulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature.
> 
> In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought around You-Know-Who's fall from power - thereby driving Hagrid's own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who's supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend - but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants.

Harry finished reading and looked up at me. He had a look of horror on his face, worry lines creasing his forehead.  "How did she find out?" he whispered.

"What d'you mean, 'we all hate Hagrid'?" Harry spat at Malfoy when all I could do was look at him agape…"What's this rubbish about him" - he pointed at Crabbe - "getting a bad bite off a flobberworm? They haven't even got teeth!"

Crabbe was sniggering, apparently very pleased with himself. I took the opportunity while everyone was distracted to sneakily point my wand at Crabbe and whisper, “ _Steleus_!”

Crabbe began to sneeze uncontrollably and Malfoy simply rolled his eyes at the oaf and looked back at the rest of us. "Well, I think this should put an end to the oaf's teaching career," Malfoy said, his eyes glinting. "Half-giant…and there was me thinking he'd just swallowed a bottle of Skele-Gro when he was young. None of the mummies and daddies are going to like this at all! They'll be worried he'll eat their kids, ha, ha."

"You -" Harry began.

"Are you paying attention over there?"

Professor Grubbly-Planks voice carried over to the rest of the class; the girls (minus myself) were all clustered around the unicorn now, stroking it. Harry was so visibly angry that the Daily Prophet article shook in his hands as he turned to stare unseeingly at the unicorn, whose many magical properties Professor Grubbly-Plank was now enumerating in a loud voice, so that the boys could hear too.

Once the professor was well into her lecture, I shot the sneezing hex to Goyle, and then five minutes later, Malfoy. He searched for the source of the spell, as he seemed to have caught on to what was happening, but when he looked to Ron and Harry, both boys had their arms across their chests, wands tucked into their robes.

"I hope she stays, that woman!" Parvati said when the lesson had ended and we were all heading back to the castle for lunch. "That's more what I thought Care of Magical Creatures would be like, proper creatures like unicorns, not monsters."

I was proud of the self-restraint I held at that moment, for another _Steleus_ was at my fingertips.

"What about Hagrid?" Harry said angrily as they went up the steps.

"What about him?" Parvati said in a hard voice. "He can still be gamekeeper, can't he?"

Parvati had been very cool toward Harry since the ball. I supposed that he ought to have paid her a bit more attention, but she seemed to have had a good time all the same. She was certainly telling anybody who would listen that she had made arrangements to meet the boy from Beauxbatons in Hogsmeade on the next weekend trip.

"That was a really good lesson," Hermione said as we entered the Great Hall. "I didn't know half the things Professor Grubbly-Plank told us about uni-"

"Look at this!" Harry snarled, and he shoved the Daily Prophet article under Hermione's nose.

Hermione's mouth fell open as she read. Her reaction was exactly the same as Ron's.

"How did that horrible Skeeter woman find out? You don't think Hagrid told her?"

“No," Harry said, leading the way over to the Gryffindor table and throwing himself into a chair, furious. "He never even told us, did he? I reckon she was so mad he wouldn't give her loads of horrible stuff about me, she went ferreting around to get him back."

"Maybe she heard him telling Madame Maxime at the ball," said Hermione quietly.

"We'd have seen her in the garden!" I said, frustrated. "Anyway, she's not supposed to come into school anymore, Hagrid said Dumbledore banned her."

"Maybe she's got an Invisibility Cloak," Harry said, ladling chicken casserole onto his plate and splashing it everywhere in his anger. "Sort of thing she'd do, isn't it, hide in bushes listening to people."

"Like you and Hazel did, you mean," Hermione said, an eyebrow raised.

"We weren't trying to hear him!" I said harshly. "We didn't have any choice! He was the one talking about his giantess mother where anyone could have heard him!"

"We've got to go and see him," Harry said. "This evening, after Divination. Tell him we want him back…you do want him back?" he shot at Hermione.

"I - well, I'm not going to pretend it didn't make a nice change, having a proper Care of Magical Creatures lesson for once - but I do want Hagrid back, of course I do!" Hermione added hastily, quailing under Harry's furious stare.

So that evening after dinner, the four of us left the castle once more and went down through the frozen grounds to Hagrid's cabin. I knocked and Fang's booming barks answered.

"Hagrid, it's us!" Harry shouted, pounding on the door. "Open up!"

Hagrid didn't answer. We could hear Fang scratching at the door, whining, but it didn't open. We hammered on it for ten more minutes; Ron even went and banged on one of the windows, but there was no response.

"What's he avoiding us for?" Hermione said when they had finally given up and were walking back to the school. "He surely doesn't think we'd care about him being half-giant?"

But it seemed that Hagrid did care. We didn't see a sign of him all week. He didn't appear at the staff table at mealtimes, we didn't see him going about his gamekeeper duties on the grounds, and Professor Grubbly-Plank continued to take the Care of Magical Creatures classes. Malfoy was gloating at every possible opportunity.

"Missing your half-breed pal?" he kept whispering whenever there was a teacher around, so that he was safe from retaliation. "Missing the elephant-man?"

There was a Hogsmeade visit halfway through January. It was explained to me that it was the village we had passed through the first night and any Third-Year and above students’ chance to blow off steam. I was very surprised that Harry was going to go considering everything.

Breakfast that morning seemed just as lively as the Christmas, with the older students eagerly finishing their food before running out of the castle. We left the castle together on Saturday and set off through the cold, wet grounds toward the gates. As we passed the Durmstrang ship moored in the lake, I saw Viktor Krum emerge onto the deck, dressed in nothing but swimming trunks. He was very skinny indeed, but apparently a lot tougher than he looked, because he climbed up onto the side of the ship, stretched out his arms, and dived, right into the lake.

"He's mad!" Harry said, staring at Krum's dark head as it bobbed out into the middle of the lake. "It must be freezing, it's January!"

"It's a lot colder where he comes from," Hermione said. "I suppose it feels quite warm to him."

"Yeah, but there's still the giant squid," Ron said. He didn't sound anxious - if anything, he sounded hopeful.

Hermione noticed his tone of voice and frowned.

“Maybe his abs will fend off any giant squid or other large animals,” I joked, earning me a dirty look from Harry and Ron.

"He's really nice, you know," she said. "He's not at all like you'd think, coming from Durmstrang. He likes it much better here, he told me."

Ron said nothing. He hadn't mentioned Viktor Krum since the ball, but Harry had divulged that he had found a miniature arm under his bed on Boxing Day, which had looked very much as though it had been snapped off a small model figure wearing Bulgarian Quidditch robes.

I looped my arm through Hermione’s and whispered in her ear, “Someone’s jealous…”

She scowled at me but didn’t push me away, “Hazel, you know, if it wasn’t for the fact that I like your company, I’d throw you into the Black Lake.”

“Oh, are you trying to set me up with Viktor to get him off your hands?” I replied smiling.

“I swear,” she said.

“I’d like to see you try,” I raised my eyebrows.

“What’re you two talking about?” Ron asked.

Hermione squeezed my arm tightly. “Nothing, Ron, Hermione’s just threatening to murder me in cold blood, the usual.”

“Hazel!” she cried.

“I’ll have to object,” Harry said, “I need all the support I can get.”

“Who said that I’m supporting you?” I asked, “I’ll have you know, Fleur Delacour is _my_ Hogwarts champion.”

The Three Broomsticks, I was told, was the most popular spot of Hogsmeade. Madam Rosmerta’s meade and butterbeer were supposed to be the best in Britain. The pub was as crowded as ever and we went up to the bar, ordered four butterbeers, and tried to find an open table.

"Doesn't he ever go into the office?" Hermione whispered suddenly. "Look!"

She pointed into the mirror behind the bar, and I saw Ludo Bagman reflected there, sitting in a shadowy corner with a bunch of goblins. Bagman was talking very fast in a low voice to the goblins, all of whom had their arms crossed and were looking rather menacing.

It was indeed odd, I thought, that Bagman was here at the Three Broomsticks on a weekend when there was no Triwizard event, and therefore no judging to be done. I watched Bagman in the mirror. He was looking strained, quite strained. But just then Bagman glanced over at the bar, saw Harry, and stood up.

"In a moment, in a moment!" I heard him say brusquely to the goblins, and Bagman hurried through the pub toward Harry, his boyish grin back in place.

"Harry!" he said. "How are you? Been hoping to run into you! Everything going all right?"

"Fine, thanks," Harry said.

"Wonder if I could have a quick, private word, Harry?" Bagman said eagerly. "You couldn't give us a moment, you three, could you?"

"Er - okay," said Ron, and we went off to find a table.

When we couldn’t find one, we waited by a table that was almost finished with their drinks, hoping they’d leave soon.

“You know what?” I said, downing the rest of the butterbeer in one go. “I haven’t seen the rest of Hogsmeade yet, I’m going to go look around while Bagman harasses Harry.”

“I can show you around!” Hermione offered, handing Ron her drink.

I held a hand up, “I’ll be fine. Keep watch over Harry, he might need it.”

“You sure?” Ron asked.

“Positive,” I rewrapped my scarf around my neck.

It was so easy to forget about the harsh bite of the winter air when inside the Three Broomsticks, but the moment I stepped out, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

“Gah,” I said, holding my coat tighter around me.

There were a lot of students milling about, heading from one store to another, while the rest loitered, just happy to be out of the castle. I walked to the closest shop, the sign reading, _Scribbulus Writing Implements_. 

“Oh,” I opened the door, “I do need more parchment…”

The store was crowded with some of the patrons fawning over gold tipped quills and matching gold inkwells. I scanned the store for the parchment and found them by the back of the store.

“Excuse me,” I pushed through, “pardon me.”

“Hazel,” Neville smiled from in front of me. “I thought that was you!”

“Hey, Neville,” he was stood next to bottles of colour changing ink. “What are you doing in here?”

“Ran out of ink,” he held up a bottle, “d’ya think the professors would mind if I used this?”

“I think that if you use that, it’ll be at your own risk,” I replied.

“You’re right,” he sighed. He grabbed a few bottles of black ink. “Where’re the others?” He looked around the shop.

“Huh?” I looked at him confusedly.

“ _The others_. Harry, Hermione, Ron?” He looked at me like I was being dim. “You’re usually with them.”

“Oh!” I blushed, “They’re back at the Three Broomsticks. Thought I’d wander around the shops. I also needed parchment.”

“Let’s get what you need and I can show you around.”

I opened my mouth to protest but Neville’s earnest face shattered my steely resolve. I grabbed an armful and made to the register. With a bag of parchment for me and a smaller bag with ink for Neville, we headed out into the cold again.

“Thanks for being my guide,” I said after we had weaved in and out of a few stores.

Neville only smiled and grabbed opened the doors to _Spintwitches Sporting Needs_. It was right next to the Three Broomsticks and was the one I wanted to looked around the most. Flying had always been exhilarating to me. Ever since Dad had first allowed me to try his broom when I was three, it was hard to find me without not on one. Zooming around backyards throughout the years had been my comfort through every move. When I would feel particularly moody, I’d stay out until past midnight, not listening to my parents' shouts for me to come in. The thick smell of polished wood comforted me the moment I was stood inside the store.

I looked from one display case to another, smiling at the pristine brooms that lay behind glass. Neville stood beside me, looking at the brooms longingly. I knew that if I could see myself right then, I would have looked just like him.

While in front of a Sibirian Arrow, Neville began to fidget next to me. I turned, “What’s wrong?”

He turned pink, “I, uh, haha, this is embarrassing…I need to pee.”

“Go!” I said, choking back a laugh.

“But who’s going to show you around?” he asked, fidgeting even more.

“Neville, I’m a big girl, and we’re right next to the Three Broomsticks, I’ll be fine,” I laughed, “go!”

“If you’re sure…” he said as he walked backward out of the shop.

“I’m sure.” I smiled to myself.

I took a deep breath before I went to the final display case. Inside was the broom I had been pining over for a year now. The Firebolt. Its ebony handle was polished so well that I couldn’t even find a wayward fingerprint. I could tell this one was made with hazel twigs, because one, Hazel recognizes hazel, and two, from the smoothness of the twigs. Birch, the other type of twig that could be used for the Firebolt, tended to be rougher around the edges.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Cedric asked, appearing next to me.

I flinched in surprise, “Oh Merlin, Cedric, you frightened me.” I hit his arm.

“Sorry,” he said, but the cheeky smile on his face didn’t match his words. “I didn’t know you’re a fan of flying.”

I turned back to the Firebolt. “I love it,” I said in a voice barely above a whisper. “It’s the best feeling when you’re on a broom with the wind in your hair and without a care in the world...the ground is speeding underneath you but you’re not scared, no, not at all…you’re exhilarated.”

Cedric didn't make a sound...was he still there? I pulled my gaze away from the glass and met Cedric’s smiling face. “Having fun just staring at me?” I asked.

“Yes,” he smirked, “but it’s not just that…what you were saying…I know how you feel,” he cleared his throat.

He paused for a moment, as if contemplating his next words, “It might be because we’re not in the same year, but I’ve yet to see you this passionate about something.”

“I’m passionate about how you annoy me,” I said, tearing myself away from the Firebolt and towards a shelf filled with various sporting gloves, pissed off. Yes, I tried to restrain myself...but I wasn't a robot, I wasn't emotionless.

“I’m not trying to make fun of you,” he used his long legs to move past me and place himself in my way. “It was nice to see another side of you…” he turned away, a hint of pink on his cheeks.

I softened, “Alright, I believe you.” I picked up a pair of dragonhide gloves that were supposed to give you a better grip on your broom.

“I’ve missed seeing you in the corridors during my shifts,” Cedric said, grabbing a similar pair to what I was holding off the shelf.

“You saw me one time, one!” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Once was enough to miss you,” he said, placing the gloves back and winking.

I laughed to hide the pink I could feel in my cheeks. Why did Cedric need to be so flirtatious? I needed to get him back. “Once wasn’t enough for _me_ ,” I said in a low voice, “you need to _make_ me miss you. Over and over and over…”

Heat rose very obviously to his cheeks. I was surprised that those words came out of my mouth, I could be flirtatious, yes…I was the class flirt at Swiss Academy, flirting with everyone, boys and girls alike…but _this_  bordered on something else.

“Sorry, took it too far,” I said, dropping the gloves to their rightful place and making my way to the door. I felt endlessly embarrassed – not because of the contents of what I said, I always joked like that before – but to whom I had said it. I was just back onto the street when Cedric caught up.

“Hazel, Hazel!” He grabbed me by the wrist. “You didn’t take it too far!” He smiled gently, “I was simply taken aback—”

“See, too far!” I sighed, “I’m an impulsive idiot.”

“Hazel,” he chuckled, “let me finish. I was taken aback because I didn’t know if teasing around like that would be okay with you…now I know.” He winked.

“Oh Merlin, what have I done to myself,” I chuckled, the cold air helping my nerves calm down.

“Would you like to go get a butterbeer?” He asked, “I’m supposed to go meet my friends right now, did you want to join?”

“I already had one earlier,” I said, “I’ll go to the Three Broomsticks with you though, Hermione and company will be looking for me by now.”

The inn was still packed when we went in, every table full. I found Harry’s mop of hair immediately and turn to Cedric, “See you around.”

He winked again, “I hope.”

I rolled my eyes for the umpteenth time that day and maneuvered over to the table.

“Did I miss much?” I asked, plopping down to the empty chair.

"He offered to help me with the golden egg," Harry said.

“Who, Bagman?” I asked.

"He shouldn't be doing that!" Hermione said, looking very shocked. "He's one of the judges! And anyway, you've already worked it out - haven't you?"

"Er, nearly," Harry said. My heart sank. _Come on, Harry…_

"Well, I don't think Dumbledore would like it if he knew Bagman was trying to persuade you to cheat!" Hermione said, still looking deeply disapproving. "I hope he's trying to help Cedric as much!"

"He's not, I asked," Harry replied.

“Who cares if Diggory's getting help?" Ron said. I grimaced at him.

“You need to stop being such a git R—” Hermione started.

"Uh-oh," Ron said, staring at the door.

Rita Skeeter had just entered. She was wearing banana-yellow robes today; her long nails were painted shocking pink, and she was accompanied by her paunchy photographer. She bought drinks, and she and the photographer made their way through the crowds to a newly empty table nearby. The four of us glared at her as she approached. She was talking fast and looking very satisfied about something.

"…didn't seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo? Now, why would that be, do you think? And what's he doing with a pack of goblins in tow anyway? Showing them the sights, what nonsense. He was always a bad liar. Reckon something's up? Think we should do a bit of digging? 'Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman…' Snappy start to a sentence, Bozo - we just need to find a story to fit it -"

“Trying to ruin someone else's life?" Harry said loudly.

A few people looked around. Rita Skeeter's eyes widened behind her jewelled spectacles as she saw who had spoken.

"Harry!" she said, beaming. "How lovely! Why don't you come and join?"

"I wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot broomstick," Harry said furiously. "What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?"

Rita Skeeter raised her heavily pencilled eyebrows.

"Our readers have a right to the truth, Harry. I am merely doing my-"

"Who cares if he's half-giant?" Harry shouted. "There's nothing wrong with him!" From underneath the table, I held Harry’s hand, squeezing it to keep him grounded and calm. He couldn’t lose it now, not in front of Rita Skeeter. Hagrid was the gentlest soul but he wouldn’t want Harry to get in trouble.

The whole pub had gone very quiet. Madam Rosmerta was staring over from behind the bar, apparently oblivious to the fact that the flagon she was filling with mead was overflowing.

Rita Skeeter's smile flickered very slightly, but she hitched it back almost at once; she snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out her Quick-Quotes Quill, and said, "How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Harry? The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call him a father substitute?"

Hermione stood up very abruptly, her butterbeer clutched in her hand as though it were a grenade. I hadn’t thought to hold her down, she was usually more level-headed than the boys.

"You horrible woman," she said, through gritted teeth, "you don't care, do you, anything for a story, and anyone will do, won’t they? Even Ludo Bagman -"

"Sit down, you silly little girl, and don't talk about things you don't understand," Rita Skeeter said coldly, her eyes hardening as they fell on Hermione. "I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl...not that it needs it -" she added, eyeing Hermione's bushy hair.

That was it. She could do nothing but tear people down. I stood up now, knocking Harry’s empty flagon over, “Why don’t you take your pasty fingers with those nasty pustule looking nails and go scratch?”

A subdued but still present “ooh” came over the patrons of the Three Broomsticks.

"Let's go," said Hermione, "c'mon. Harry – Ron – Hazel…"

We left; many people were staring at us as we went. I glanced back as we reached the door. Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill was out; it was zooming backward and forward over a piece of parchment on the table.

I met Cedric’s eyes as I passed him, he had a surprised but proud expression. Neville was with Dean and Seamus and just gaped at Hermione and me.

"She'll be after you next, Hermione," Ron said in a low and worried voice as we walked quickly back up the street. “You too, Hazel.”

"Let her try!" Hermione said defiantly; she was shaking with rage. "I'll show her! Silly little girl, am I? Oh, I'll get her back for this. First Harry, then Hagrid…"

"You don't want to go upsetting Rita Skeeter," Ron said nervously. "I'm serious, Hermione, she'll dig up something on you -"

"My parents don't read the Daily Prophet. She can't scare me into hiding!" Hermione said, now striding along so fast that it was all we could do to keep up with her. I hadn’t seen Hermione this angry before. "And Hagrid isn't hiding anymore! He should never have let that excuse for a human being upset him! Come on!"

Breaking into a run, she led us all the way back up the road, through the gates flanked by winged boars, and up through the grounds to Hagrid's cabin. The curtains were still drawn, and I could hear Fang barking as we approached.

"Hagrid!" Hermione shouted, pounding on his front door. "Hagrid, that's enough! We know you're in there! Nobody cares if your mum was a giantess, Hagrid! You can't let that foul Skeeter woman do this to you! Hagrid, get out here, you're just being -"

The door opened. Hermione said, "About it-!" and then stopped, very suddenly, because she had found herself face-to-face, not with Hagrid, but with Professor Dumbledore.

"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly, smiling down at us.

"We, er, we wanted to see Hagrid," said Hermione in a rather small voice.

"Yes, I surmised as much," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling. "Why don't you come in?"

"Oh – um, okay," Hermione said.

Hermione, Ron, Harry, and I went into the cabin; Fang launched himself upon Harry the moment he entered, barking madly and trying to lick his ears. Harry fended off Fang and looked around.

Hagrid was sitting at his table, where there were two large mugs of tea. He looked a real mess. His face was blotchy, his eyes swollen, and he had gone to the other extreme where his hair was concerned; far from trying to make it behave, it now looked like a wig of tangled wire.

"Hi, Hagrid," Harry said.

Hagrid looked up "'Lo," he said in a very hoarse voice.

"More tea, I think," Dumbledore said, closing the door behind me, drawing out his wand, and twiddling it; a revolving tea tray appeared in mid-air along with a plate of cakes. Dumbledore magicked the tray onto the table, and everybody sat down. There was a slight pause, and then Dumbledore said, "Did you by any chance hear what Miss Granger was shouting, Hagrid?"

Hermione went slightly pink, but Dumbledore smiled at her and continued, "Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Hazel still seem to want to know you, judging by the way they were attempting to break down the door."

"Of course we still want to know you!" Harry said, staring at Hagrid. "You don't think anything that Skeeter cow - sorry, Professor," he added quickly, looking at Dumbledore.

"I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said, Harry," Dumbledore said, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling. I tried to hold back a smile, it felt inappropriate while Hagrid was still hurting.

"Er-right," Harry said sheepishly. "I just meant— Hagrid, how could you think we'd care what that woman wrote about you?"

Two fat tears leaked out of Hagrid's beetle-black eyes and fell slowly into his tangled beard.

“I’ve only known you these few months and even I don’t believe a word she’s written,” I said shyly. I had yet to speak in front of Professor Dumbledore.

"Living proof of what I've been telling you, Hagrid," Dumbledore said, still looking carefully up at the ceiling. "I have shown you the letters from the countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it -"

"Not all of 'em," Hagrid said hoarsely. "Not all of 'em wan me ter stay."

"Really, Hagrid, if you are holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time," Dumbledore said, now peering sternly over his half-moon spectacles. "Not a week has passed since I became headmaster of this school when I haven't had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?"

"Yeh - yeh're not half-giant!" Hagrid said croakily.

"Hagrid, look what I've got for relatives!" Harry said furiously. "Look at the Dursleys!"

"An excellent point," said Professor Dumbledore. "My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I'm not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery…"

"Come back and teach, Hagrid," Hermione said quietly, "please come back, we really miss you."

Hagrid gulped. More tears leaked out down his cheeks and into his tangled beard. Dumbledore stood up. "I refuse to accept your resignation, Hagrid, and I expect you back at work on Monday," he said. "You will join me for breakfast at eight-thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses. Good afternoon to you all."

Dumbledore left the cabin, pausing only to scratch Fangs ears. When the door had shut behind him, Hagrid began to sob into his dustbin-lid-sized hands. Hermione kept patting his arm, and at last, Hagrid looked up, his eyes very red indeed, and said, "Great man, Dumbledore, great man.”

"Yeah, he is," Ron said. "Can I have one of these cakes, Hagrid?" The git was always hungry.

"Help yerself," Hagrid said, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. "Ar, he's righ', o' course - yeh're all righ'. I bin stupid, my ol' dad woulda bin ashamed o' the way I've bin behavin'." More tears leaked out, but he wiped them away more forcefully, and said, "Never shown you a picture of my old dad, have I? Here…"

Hagrid got up, went over to his dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out a picture of a short wizard with Hagrid's crinkled black eyes, beaming as he sat on top of Hagrid's shoulder. Hagrid was a good seven or eight feet tall, judging by the apple tree beside him, but his face was beardless, young, round, and smooth - he looked hardly older than eleven.

“Tha was taken jus' after I got inter Hogwarts," Hagrid croaked. "Dad was dead chuffed…thought I migh' not be a wizard, see, 'cos me mum– well, anyway. 'Course, I never was great shakes at magic, really, but at least he never saw me expelled. Died, see, in me second year."

"Dumbledore was the one who stuck up for me after Dad went. Got me the gamekeeper job…trusts people, he does. Gives 'em second chances, tha's what sets him apar' from other heads, see. He'll accept anyone at Hogwarts, s'long as they've got the talent. Knows people can turn out okay even if their families weren', well, all tha' respectable. But some don understand that. There's some who'd always hold it against yeh, there's some who'd even pretend they just had big bones rather than stand up an' say - I am what I am, an' I'm not ashamed. 'Never be ashamed,' my ol' dad used ter say, 'there's some who'll hold it against you, but they're not worth botherin' with. ' An' he was right. I've bin an idiot. I'm not botherin' with her no more, I promise yeh that. Big bones…I'll give her big bones."

Harry and I looked at one another nervously; I would rather have taken fifty Blast-Ended Skrewts for a walk than admit to Hagrid that we had overheard him talking to Madame Maxime, but Hagrid was still talking, apparently unaware that he had said anything odd.

"Yeh know wha, Harry?" he said, looking up from the photograph of his father, his eyes very bright, "when I firs' met you, you reminded me o' me a bit. Mum an' Dad gone, an' you was feelin' like yeh wouldn' fit in at Hogwarts, remember? Not sure yeh were really up to it…an' now look at yeh, Harry! School champion!"

He looked at Harry for a moment and then said, very seriously, "Yeh know what I'd love. Harry? I'd love yeh ter win, I really would. It'd show 'em all, yeh don' have ter be pureblood ter do it. Yeh don have ter be ashamed of what yeh are. It'd show 'em Dumbledore's the one who's got it righ', lettin' anyone in as long as they can do magic. How you doin' with that egg, Harry?"

"Great," Harry said. "Really great."

Hagrid's miserable face broke into a wide, watery smile. Harry had better get a move on with the egg or else he’d let down Hagrid. The gentle giant didn’t need anything more heartbreak.

"Tha's my boy…you show 'em, Harry, you show 'em. Beat 'em all."

Our walk back to the castle was filled with Hermione and Ron arguing about Rita Skeeter again. Harry was silent, contemplative. I knew that something, most likely the egg and Hagrid, was eating him up inside but he was keeping it all to himself.

Dinner was a sombre affair, Hermione and Ron had finished fighting but were now in their ignoring each other for at least the remainder of the night. Harry was still in his own world. So rather than have a relaxing Saturday night, I spent it doing homework. Hermione was working on her own assignments alongside mine while Ron was playing chess against Seamus. Harry was sat with Hermione and I but was staring blankly at the wall.

“Harry?” I asked, rolling up a Transfiguration essay. He continued to stare at the wall. “Harry…” Nothing. “Harry!” Still nothing. “Haz, I’m pregnant with Trever the toad’s tadpole child.”

That broke him out of his reverie, “Huh, what?”

I smirked briefly and out of the corner of my eye, I could see Hermione look up. “Nothing…Are you alright? You’ve been quiet since Hagrid’s…”

“I’m fine,” he replied.

“You don’t seem it…” I stopped. “I’ll leave you alone, but if you need to talk, I’m right here.”

Harry nodded, “Got it.”

* * *

“You said you'd already worked out that egg clue!" Hermione said indignantly.

"Keep your voice down!" Harry said crossly. "I just need to - sort of fine-tune it, all right?"

“We can help him,” I said quietly.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were sitting at the very back of the Charms class with a table to ourselves. We were supposed to be practicing the opposite of the Summoning Charm today - the Banishing Charm. Owing to the potential for nasty accidents when objects kept flying across the room. Professor Flitwick had given each student a stack of cushions on which to practice, the theory being that these wouldn't hurt anyone if they went off target. It was a good theory, but it wasn't working very well. Neville's aim was so poor that he kept accidentally sending much heavier things flying across the room - Professor Flitwick, for instance.

"Just forget the egg for a minute, all right?" Harry hissed as Professor Flitwick went whizzing resignedly past us, landing on top of a large cabinet. "I'm trying to tell you about Snape and Moody…"

This class was an ideal cover for a private conversation, as everyone was having far too much fun to pay us any attention. Harry had been recounting his adventures of the previous night in whispered instalments for the last half hour.

"Snape said Moody's searched his office as well?" Ron whispered, his eyes alight with interest as he Banished a cushion with a sweep of his wand (it soared into the air and knocked Parvati's hat off, I choked on a laugh). "Whatd'you reckon Moody's here to keep an eye on Snape as well as Karkaroff?"

"Well, I dunno if that's what Dumbledore asked him to do, but he's definitely doing it," Harry said, waving his wand without paying much attention, so that his cushion did an odd sort of belly flop off the desk. "Moody said Dumbledore only lets Snape stay here because he's giving him a second chance or something…"

I waved my wand, listening to the conversation but watching my cushion intently. It flew gracefully over my classmates and landed in the box we were all supposed to be aiming at.

“What?" Ron said, his eyes widening, his next cushion spinning high into the air, ricocheting off the chandelier, and dropping heavily onto Flitwick's desk. "Harry, maybe Moody thinks Snape put your name in the Goblet of Fire!"

"Oh Ron," Hermione said, shaking her head skeptically, "we thought Snape was trying to kill Harry before, and it turned out he was saving Harry's life, remember?"

She Banished a cushion and it flew across the room and landed in the box as well. Harry looked at Hermione, thinking.

"I don't care what Moody says," Hermione went on. "Dumbledore's not stupid. He was right to trust Hagrid and Professor Lupin, even though loads of people wouldn't have given them jobs, so why shouldn't he be right about Snape, even if Snape is a bit -"

"- evil," Ron said promptly. "Come on, Hermione, why are all these Dark wizard catchers searching his office, then?"

"Why has Mr. Crouch been pretending to be ill?" Hermione said, ignoring Ron. "It’s a bit funny, isn't it, that he can’t manage to come to the Yule Ball, but he can get up here in the middle of the night when he wants to?"

"You just don't like Crouch because of that elf, Winky," Ron said, sending a cushion soaring into the window.

"You just want to think Snape's up to something," Hermione said, sending her cushion zooming neatly into the box.

"I just want to know what Snape did with his first chance, if he's on his second one," Harry said grimly, and his cushion, to his very great (and mine, and Hermione’s) surprise, flew straight across the room and landed neatly on top of Hermione's.

Obedient to Sirius's wish of hearing about anything odd at Hogwarts, Harry sent him a letter using one of the school’s brown owls that night, explaining all about Mr. Crouch breaking into Snape's office, and Moody and Snape's conversation. Then Harry turned his attention in earnest to the most urgent problem facing him: how to survive underwater for an hour on the twenty-fourth of February.

Ron quite liked the idea of using the Summoning Charm again - Harry had explained about Aqua-Lungs, and Ron couldn't see why Harry shouldn't Summon one from the nearest Muggle town. Hermione squashed this plan by pointing out that, in the unlikely event that Harry managed to learn how to operate an Aqua-Lung within the set limit of an hour, he was sure to be disqualified for breaking the International Code of Wizarding Secrecy - it was too much to hope that no Muggles would spot an Aqua-Lung zooming across the countryside to Hogwarts.

“Ron, sometimes I wonder what goes through that brain of yours,” I said, a textbook at him.

"Of course, the ideal solution would be for you to Transfigure yourself into a submarine or something," Hermione said, ignoring Ron and I. "If only we'd done human Transfiguration already! But I don't think we start that until Sixth-Year, and it can go badly wrong if you don't know what you're doing."

"Yeah, I don't fancy walking around with a periscope sticking out of my head," Harry said. "I s'pose I could always attack someone in front of Moody; he might do it for me."

"I don't think he'd let you choose what you wanted to be turned into, though," Hermione said seriously. "No, I think your best chance is some sort of charm."

“I love to read,” I said one morning in the library, the trio holding books of their own, “but after all of this, I think that I will soon have had enough of the library to last me a lifetime.”

Harry and Ron murmured in agreement while Hermione scoffed, her eyes never leaving her book. And so I buried myself once more among the dusty volumes, looking for any spell that might enable a human to survive without oxygen. However, though we searched through our lunchtimes, evenings, and whole weekends - though Harry asked Professor McGonagall for a note of permission to use the Restricted Section, and even asked the irritable, vulture-like librarian Madam Pince, for help - we found nothing whatsoever that would enable Harry to spend an hour underwater and live to tell the tale.

Familiar flutterings of panic were starting to bubble up again, and I was finding it difficult to concentrate in class. As each day passed, a large, deeper anxiety threatened to take hold of me. It dared to constrict my breath when I thought about the Second Task too much, made my heart race, made me lightheaded while walking to class.

Just as it had before Harry faced the Horntail, time was slipping away as though somebody had bewitched the clocks to go extra-fast. There was a week to go before February the twenty-fourth (there was still time)…there were five days to go (we were bound to find something soon)…three days to go (please let someone find something, please)…

I had taken back to roaming the corridors at night, the quietness of the sleeping school calming my nerves somewhat. It was easier to not have to think about the task when I wasn’t around Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Luckily, I hadn’t come across Cedric in the few weeks I had been wandering. He did catch me around the school, sometimes simply flashing the flap of his knapsack at me.

“I’m surprised you haven’t charmed it to just be a plain bag,” I said two weeks before the task. It was a Saturday afternoon and I had accidentally slept in. I was on my way to the library to find the others but bumped into Cedric.

“Why would I?” He asked, fixing the bag on his back. “I happen to like the picture.”

“It was a gag gift!” I said, “…only _you_ would find that amusing considering you’re the victim here.”

“I don’t see how I’m the victim,” he said, opening the doors to the library. “I have a very pretty girl in my bag.”

I blushed just as we passed Madam Pince’s desk. She watched us intently, angry that we had been talking.

“Sorry, Madam,” I whispered apologetically.

Cedric just flashed her a winning smile and her scowl lightened. She wasn’t smiling, no, but she looked less severe. I spied Harry’s head near the back, “See you around.” I waved.

* * *

With two days left. Harry started to go off food again. I had half a mind to join him, it was hard keeping anything down these days. The only good thing about breakfast on Monday was the return of the brown owl Harry had sent to Sirius. He pulled off the parchment, unrolled it, and read.

> Send date of next Hogsmeade weekend by return owl.

Harry turned the parchment over and looked at the back, hoping to see something else, but it was blank.

"Weekend after next," whispered Hermione, who had read the note over Harry's shoulder. "Here - take my quill and send this owl back straight away."

Harry scribbled the dates down on the back of Sirius's letter, tied it onto the brown owl's leg, and watched it take flight again.

"What's he want to know about the next Hogsmeade weekend for?" Ron mused.

"Dunno," Harry said dully. "Come on…Care of Magical Creatures."

Whether Hagrid was trying to make up for the Blast-Ended Skrewts, or because there were now only two skrewts left, or because he was trying to prove he could do anything that Professor Grubbly-Plank could, I didn’t know, but Hagrid had been continuing her lessons on unicorns ever since he'd returned to work. It turned out that Hagrid knew quite as much about unicorns as he did about monsters, though it was clear that he found their lack of poisonous fangs disappointing.

Today he had managed to capture two unicorn foals. Unlike full-grown unicorns, they were pure gold. Parvati and Lavender went into transports of delight at the sight of them, and even Pansy Parkinson had to work hard to conceal how much she liked them.

"Easier ter spot than the adults," Hagrid told the class. "They turn silver when they're abou' two years old, an' they grow horns at aroun four. Don' go pure white till they're full grown, 'round about seven. They're a bit more trustin' when they're babies, don' mind boys so much. C'mon, move in a bit, yeh can pat 'em if yeh want, give 'em a few o' these sugar lumps.”

"You okay. Harry?" Hagrid muttered, moving aside slightly, while most of the others swarmed around the baby unicorns.

"Yeah," Harry said.

"Jus' nervous, eh?" asked Hagrid.

"Bit," Harry said.

"Harry," Hagrid said, clapping a massive hand on his shoulder. "I'd've bin worried before I saw yeh take on tha Horntail, but I know now yeh can do anythin' yeh set yer mind ter. I'm not worried at all. Yeh're goin ter be fine. Got yer clue worked out, haven' yeh?"

Hermione looked like she had half a mind to tell Hagrid the truth, that we hadn’t found a solution yet, but she couldn't bring herself to wipe the happy, confident smile off Hagrid's face. Harry nodded.

"Yeh're goin' ter win," Hagrid growled, patting Harry's shoulder again, so hard that Harry actually sank a couple of inches into the soft ground. "I know it. I can feel it. Yeh're goin' ter win, Harry."

By the evening before the Second Task, it felt as though I were trapped in a nightmare. I was fully aware that even if, by some miracle, we managed to find a suitable spell, Harry’d have a real job mastering it overnight.

I sat with Hermione, Harry, and Ron in the library as the sun set outside, tearing feverishly through page after page of spells, hidden from one another by the massive piles of books on the desk in front of each of them. My heart gave a huge leap every time I saw the word "water" on a page, but more often than not it was merely "Take two pints of water, half a pound of shredded mandrake leaves, and a newt…"

"I don't reckon it can be done," Ron's voice said flatly from the other side of the table. "There's nothing. Nothing. Closest was that thing to dry up puddles and ponds, that Drought Charm, but that was nowhere near powerful enough to drain the lake."

"There must be something," Hermione muttered, moving a candle closer to her. Her eyes were so tired she was poring over the tiny print of _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes_ with her nose about an inch from the page. "They'd never have set a task that was undoable."

"They have," Ron said. "Harry, just go down to the lake tomorrow, right, stick your head in, yell at the merpeople to give back whatever they've nicked, and see if they chuck it out. Best you can do, mate."

"There's a way of doing it!" Hermione said crossly. "There just has to be!"

She seemed to be taking the library's lack of useful information on the subject as a personal insult.

“I say you make friends with Moses and ask him to part the waters for you,” I said sleepily over a pile of books. The half-hearted joke was lost immediately, considering the mood.

“I know what I should have done," Harry said, resting, face-down, on _Saucy Tricks for Tricky Sorts_. "I should've learned to be an Animagus like Sirius."

"Yeah, you could've turned into a goldfish any time you wanted!" Ron said.

"Or a frog," Harry yawned. He looked like I felt, exhausted.

"It takes years to become an Animagus, and then you have to register yourself and everything," Hermione said vaguely, now squinting down the index of _Weird Wizarding Dilemmas and Their Solutions_. "Professor McGonagall told us, remember, you've got to register yourself with the Improper Use of Magic Office…what animal you become, and your markings, so you can't abuse it…"

“Hermione, I was joking," Harry said wearily. "I know I haven't got a chance of turning into a frog by tomorrow morning."

“Or toad, don’t forget toads. Trevor would be insulted,” I yawned.

"Oh this is no use," Hermione said, snapping shut _Weird Wizarding Dilemmas_. "Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?"

"I wouldn't mind," said Fred’s voice. "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?"

I looked up. Fred and George had just emerged from behind some bookshelves.

"What're you two doing here?" Ron asked.

"Looking for you," George said. "McGonagall wants you, Ron. And the two of you as well, Hazel, Hermione…"

"Why?" said Hermione, looking surprised.

"Dunno, she was looking a bit grim, though," said Fred.

"We're supposed to take you down to her office," said George.

Ron and Hermione stared at Harry, and I felt my stomach drop. Was Professor McGonagall about to tell us off? Perhaps she'd noticed how much we were helping him when he ought to be working out how to do the task alone?

"We'll meet you back in the common room," I told Harry as I got up to go with Hermione and Ron, they looked very anxious.

"Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?" Hermione added.

"Right," Harry said uneasily.

The twins grabbed me by each arm and began to walk. They were mouthing off about how they’d just finished developing the Extendable Ears. It was hard for me to concentrate when I couldn’t stop thinking about Harry.

“Hazel, are you listening?” Fred asked.

“Only a little,” I admitted, “I’m worried why McGonagall wants to see us…”

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” George said.

I slipped out of their grip and walked alongside Hermione and Ron. Hermione was talking fast, thinking of all the ways we were about to get in trouble. Ron looked nonplussed but I could tell that he was scared from the way the tips of his ears were pink.

George knocked on Professor McGonagall’s door rhythmically.

“Come in!” McGonagall called.

The boys ushered us in and said, “Found them.”

She nodded and waved them out the door. With a flick of her wand, I heard the door behind us click. I wrung my hands behind my back, the nerves getting to me. Ron stood stoically, his ears even pinker now.

Hermione spoke up, “Professor McGonagall, what we—”

“Quiet, Miss Granger,” she said. “You’re not in trouble. No need to fret.”

Hermione physically deflated and Ron returned to normal. I kept my hands behind my back calmed down. “As I’m sure the three of you know,” she looked at the each of us pointedly, “the Second Task calls for the champions to find within the lake what they’ll ‘sorely miss’…luckily for the three of you, you are that thing.”

I looked at her confused, “What do you mean, Professor?”

McGonagall turned to me, “Exactly what I said, Miss Masterson. The three of you, respectively, are held dear by a champion. You will need to be rescued.” She looked at the door. “Now, we’re only waiting for one more and then I will be placing you under an enchanted slumber. You need not worry, no harm will come to you should your champion fail to rescue you.”

A knock came from the door. The professor waved her wand and it opened. A girl, probably no older than eight or nine was ushered in. If I wasn’t mistaken, she looked to be a mini version of Fleur Delacour.

“ _Sopor Somnus_!” I heard McGonagall say before everything faded to black.


	16. Starry Night

_I awoke gradually as the morning sun cast its glow over my face. It was odd, the sun was shining brightly and directly onto me but it didn’t feel warm…no, not at all. I sat up and scanned my surroundings. I was in the middle of a field—no, it was a section of the Hogwarts grounds and in the distance I could see the castle…but it felt off. I shuddered, it was so cold..._

_When I stood up, I wobbled for a moment, my centre of gravity almost non-existent._

_“I should go inside,” I said and I took a step forward but was met with a resistance I didn’t expect. I could walk, that wasn’t the issue, but it felt heavy, as though my legs were weighed down. “This is weird.”_

_In the background, I heard a melody I could not recognize. It was soft, just audible over the breeze rustling the tops of the trees._

_“Hazel…” The voice sounded familiar._

_“What? Who’s there?” I swivelled my head around but could not find another person. Suddenly, I wasn’t on the grounds anymore, I was_ in _the castle now. I trudged through the castle, trying to make my way to bed. Maybe a nap would clear things up for me. The castle was strangely empty, I had yet to come across another person. I pondered if it was a Hogsmeade weekend and everyone had gone…_

_“Hazel…” I heard again._

_I decided to ignore it, deciding that I was just imagining things._

_One foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other…_

_It felt as though I had been climbing for ages. Looking up, I could make out the staircase that led to the Seventh-Floor corridor so I continued to climb higher and higher. I counted five flights of stairs and looked up again. I still hadn’t reached the Seventh-Floor stairs._

_A bubble of anxiety rushed through me. Why hadn’t I reached it yet? I bit my lip and stared directly at the door as I began to climb again…but with each step, the door did not come closer. The bubble burst and I could feel my chest start to hurt._

_I looked around to see if there was any clue as to why this was happening. Everything looked the same—wait…_

_The portraits that normally lined the walls were gone. In their place were ones of my classmates. I could make out my fellow Gryffindor Fourth-Years, Ron, Hermione, my brother and his Ravenclaw friends, some Hufflepuffs…_

_They waved at me, some beckoning me, all with smiles…_

_I furrowed my brow and tried climbing again. More portraits with classmates…_

_…Then began a series of portraits of Harry. I realised that he hadn’t been in the portrait with the other Fourth-Years...odd. These new portraits had captured random moments from my time with him. There was one of the moment I had fallen on top of him at the World Cup…one of us sitting together on the train…one in the common room studying…it went on and on. I don’t know when I had begun to smile, but my cheeks were hurting now._

_I looked up again, the door had gotten a little closer. It was still a few flights away, but obviously closer. I grinned._

_Portraits of my childhood were next. Almost all of them had my brother in them, we had always been inseparable. My heart broke a little as I looked at them. Since the summer, since school had started, I had been seeing him less and less. I knew that it was my own way of trying to keep him at a distance…I was still harbouring the only secret I had ever kept from him. I had thought about telling him a lot of times, but I didn’t know how to do it without breaking his heart. We still talked during classes we had together and every so often in the Great Hall, but it was different. Maybe it was because he had acclimated so easily into Hogwarts and I hadn’t. He had always been the more amiable sibling. The final portrait was when Ireland had won the World Cup. We both had huge grins on our faces and our fists in the air. I wasn’t smiling anymore, I was crying. I missed my brother._

_I glanced upwards. The door wasn’t that far anymore._

_The first portrait in the next series made me stop in my tracks. It was me, visibly crying, my back illuminated by Cedric’s wand. He was in the corner of the portrait at first, walking from behind me to move in front. A chill hit me hard. No matter how far I had come in moving past that night, this still hit me hard. But rather than the fear and anxiety that had always clouded that memory, it was masked somewhat with a different emotion. Seeing Cedric’s concern for someone who, at that time, was a virtual stranger…it warmed my heart. The next portrait was the first night in the Entrance Hall. The cheeky smile that played on his lips was so infectious that I smiled without meaning to. I was still smiling when I passed a painting of the Second-Floor corridor with Cedric and I sitting on the ground. The grin faded and I turned away. When I looked back, I saw a portrait from a morning in the Entrance Hall, on the Marble Staircase. Cedric and I were holding hands, with me a few steps above him as I traced the height difference between us. There was one more left, it was from the hallway shared between the kitchens and Hufflepuff house. Cedric’s arm was extended forward with a single sunflower in his grasp. Like they were now, my cheeks in the portrait were tinted pink. Cedric had always been trying to make me feel comfortable, ever since the beginning…_

_Another peep showed me that the Seventh-Floor door was only one flight away. I ran up the remaining stairs, speeding past portraits of everyone I knew at Hogwarts. The door was a stone’s throw away when I came across the last portrait. It was from the Yule Ball; Harry and I were outside looking up at the bright moon. The serenity written on my face in the painting was reflected in equanimity I felt now. There was something about a moment in your life when there was nothing to be gained or lost that made it all the more special. Harry, without ever trying, made me feel calm._

_I was at the door now, my hand on the handle. One small push and I would be—_

A sharp chill hit me like a train. It was _so_ cold that it hurt to breathe…but I needed to breathe. I gasped for air and blinked rapidly, trying to get my bearings. The last memory I had was being in Professor McGonagall’s office…oh, she had charmed us. It dawned on me that I could hear cheering coming from somewhere…and that I was being held by someone. I turned and met Cedric’s kind face. His usually light brown hair was darker and matted to his forehead. He was wet and smiling like everything was normal.

I turned incredibly pink. I was so cold that at that moment, I actually appreciated the warmth it brought…but my heart was beating out of my chest. _Thump. Thump. Thump._ I swallowed, my throat feeling very thick. I remembered that the Second Task was to rescue something very dear for each of the champions. I had assumed that it was a material object, like Harry’s Firebolt for example. Never did it cross my mind while I was researching with the Trio that it would be a person. And I—I couldn’t let myself process the thoughts that were going through my head because if I did, I probably would have had a breakdown.

The frozen cogs in my head turned. The four captives were myself, Ron, Hermione, and Fleur’s little sister. The Delacour situation was obvious...Hermione for Krum, I assumed…Ron for Harry…and me for Cedric? 

“You alright?” Cedric asked, holding me tighter against his chest and rubbing my back. I stiffened initially but the slight heat that the friction on my back made obliged my body to relax.

My answer came out shakily, but if it was for the cold or nerves, I didn’t know. “I-I-I’m ok-okay.”

“Do you know how to swim? Or shall I help?” His eyebrows were raised and his eyes inquisitive.

“I-I can swim,” I said.

He looked disappointed but recovered quickly, “Let’s get to the shore.”

Cedric let me go very carefully, making sure that I had achieved buoyancy before fully releasing. We reached the bank soon enough and Madam Pomfrey stood just short of the shoreline, holding thick blankets in her arms. 

Another round of cheers erupted when Cedric stepped onto land. He smiled and waved to the crowd, who cheered again.

Madam Pomfrey rushed forward, “Take one, each of you,” we did as we were told, “make sure to cover your heads!”

I wrapped the dark grey blanket around me, trying to make it as tight as possible to keep the cold air from coming in. Even with my height, the blanket was dragging along the ground. Cedric appeared in front of me and grinned. His large hands emerged from his blanket and took a hold of each of the sides of mine. He wrapped the thick cloth tighter around me and asked, “Better? 

I nodded, unable to speak. His smiled broadened.

“As I said earlier, the task today was to recover a stolen item,” Ludo Bagman announced so suddenly that I jerked in surprise, “Here we are, the first champion has achieved the goal to save the something they hold dear…or should I say, _someone_?”

The stands “Ooh”-ed, some craning over their friends to see just who Cedric had saved.

“If you please, another round of applause for Hogwarts champion, _Cedric Diggory_ , and his _dear_ Hazel Masterson!” My face felt hot, very hot as I watched Mr. Bagman wide-eyed. Would hexing him be smart in front of the school…

The clapping was just as loud as before but now instead of cheering, the crowd began to talk.

There were eight chairs lined up a few metres away from the shore and I immediately sat in one, both trying to process what was happening and trying not to. Cedric plopped down onto the one right next to me. I shivered and forced myself to watch the water to see who would come next. It was all in an effort to keep myself distracted but my mind wandered. _Cedric_ …my cheeks warmed. Beside me, I could feel him scoot over and lean in towards me, “Here, let’s share a blanket and some warmth.”

Already, I could hear murmurings behind me, students debating one another. I heard someone say, “Isn’t that the new girl? Why would Cedric miss _her_?”

“I-I’m okay, I’m warm e-enough,” I stuttered. How could he be so casual about it all?

“You’re not,” he said, watching me carefully. “You’re nearly blue.”

I struggled to come up with a good enough excuse. “What would people think?” I said so quietly that I didn’t think I was going to be heard.

“Let them think what they want, you’re shaking like leaf,” He lifted his arm and blanket and waited for me. I stared at him blankly. “You don’t have to, but you’ll see that I can warm you up very well.”

I blushed deeply.

“See,” he smiled gently, “I’ve already started.”

I leaned in, doing so before I could talk myself out of it, and Cedric closed his arm around me immediately. I was never going to admit it, but he was right. I was already much warmer than just seconds before. It felt odd to be this close to someone, especially in front of a lot of people who were watching your every move. The gossiping continued and I tried very hard to ignore the words being said behind me. With each comment, seedlings of doubt were planted in my mind and I blushed harder. Did Cedric pity me like they thought? Was that the whole basis of our friendship? My face was so hot now that it almost felt like being burned. Luckily, our backs were to the crowd and they couldn’t see the state of my face.

As if reading my mind, Cedric whispered, “Don’t listen, focus on getting warm.”

Madam Pomfrey rushed over with two blue bottles and held one out in front of each of us, “Drink this, it’s Pepperup Potion to get you two warm.”

I thanked her and downed the bottle in one go. Steam instantly billowed from my ears and my internal temperature went up a few degrees. I wasn’t back to normal by any definition of the word, but I was more comfortable. The steam from Cedric’s ears grazed the side of my face but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

The effects of the potion allowed my mind to clear up and for me to focus a little more. I was all too aware now of how our interactions could be interpreted. I was literally leaning on his shoulder while he had his arm around my waist. It dawned on me as well that my _brother_ was in the crowd, probably thinking his sister had gone insane.

Because of the position my body was in, I wasn’t able to exert my anxiety in my normal fidgety ways so instead I began to fiddle with my hands in my lap.

“Sorry,” Cedric said quietly after a moment.

“For what?” I asked, holding still.

“That they took you and put you into the water.” He said with a sigh.

“It’s not like you asked them to do that,” I said…but wait, did he? Did he tell them to choose me? No, we would have heard from Har—

“I know, but I guess my feelings for you are so obv—”

A shark head emerged from the water and I jumped, causing Cedric to stop talking. “What’s wrong—oh.”

The shark raised his wand with a flourish and Viktor Krum returned to normal, a newly awoken Hermione in his arms.

I stood, forgetting that I had been in Cedric’s arms, and sped towards the shore. I could hear Cedric following closely behind me and when I stopped just short of the water, he did the same. While we waited for Krum and Hermione to draw nearer, I stood on my tippy toes, trying to see better. I could feel Cedric’s warm breath on the nape of my neck.

He put a hand on either side of my waist and bent down to whisper, “She’ll be here soon.” I nodded, not looking at him.

Hermione proved to be a pretty competent swimmer and made it to land quickly. Krum stepped out just before her.

“And our second champion has returned! Please, cheer for Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger!” Bagman announced. Cheers followed, with the Durmstrang delegation being the loudest.

“Hermione!” I called, smiling that she was safe.

Hermione watched me for a moment, a neutral expression on her face. She said nothing as she grabbed a blanket from Madam Pomfrey and walked over. “Hazel, I’m glad you’re okay.” She offered a small smile. Turning to Cedric, she regarded him before saying, “Hi Cedric, I’m don’t know you very well, but thank you for saving Hazel.” Her eyes travelled down and saw the hands on my waist that had yet to move.

“It’s my fault she was in there in the first place,” Cedric said.

“Well, either way, thank you.” Hermione fixed her blanket, “Can I borrow her for a second?”

“Of course!” The hands on my waist disappeared. There was an embankment not too far from the stands and Hermione walked to it while I followed silently.

I hadn’t even stopped all the way when Hermione turned around, wide-eyed. “You’re _Cedric’s_ hostage?”

I shrugged, “I know as much as you do.”

“I feel like you’re not telling me everything,” she said, a hurt look on her face.

“No!” I stepped closer, lowering my voice. I had yelled so loud that although we were a little ways away from the stands, some people looked our way. “I mean, you know everything there is to know. You were there when McGonagall put us to sleep, did it look like I knew what was happening? That we were hostages to be saved?” I took a deep breath. “When I woke up just now, I-I…” I paused, “When I realised that I was Cedric’s thing he’d miss…I don’t know.”

Hermione thought for a second before she reached for my hand, “I’m sorry, he just looks so comfortable with you that I thought something had changed…and you weren’t necessarily opposed by the looks of it.”

I couldn’t help it, I blushed. “Are you saying when a handsome boy you are well acquainted and comfortable with touches you, you’re going to move away?” I looked from her to Krum.

She followed my gaze and blushed as well, “Well, that’s different. Viktor is nice and everything…but when I awoke, it felt weird to think that I was something he’d miss.”

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“It’s not like we know each other particularly well.” She replied with a huff.

“Oh, I get it,” I raised my eyebrows, “you’re holding out for a certain red headed boy I know.” 

Hermione turned even redder, “Oh, shut it, you!”

There was a large splash in the middle of the lake. Fleur had just emerged from the depths of the lake but she didn’t look very well. She frantically swam to shore, a hysterical look on her face as she neared. It was obvious now at a closer distance that she had multiple gashes and cuts along her face and body, small amounts of blood staining her robes.

“Gabrielle is still down there!” She cried as Madam Pomfrey threw a blanket on her and guided her towards a chair. She resisted for a moment, looking around for someone to help her. “Please, Gabrielle needs to be saved!”

“Calm down Miss Delacour,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing her a Pepperup Potion. “I promise that she will return safely.”

“But you do not know zat!”

“Let me tend to your wounds first, Miss Delacour.” 

“Miss Delacour has returned, but not with her hostage…” Bagman declared, “…let’s hope she makes it back safely!”

This made Fleur restart her efforts to find her sister but with the help of a binding spell, Madam Pomfrey was able to finish treating her obvious wounds. Hermione and I found our ways back to the chairs. I sat down next to Cedric, who smiled at me as I lowered myself. I returned the smile but wondered for a second whether or not that was wise. It was hard to say what was going through Cedric’s head. Was he just as surprised as I was that I had been taken hostage for him?

Hermione sat next to me and Krum, realising she had returned, immediately joined her. The four of us sat in silence, waiting for Harry to return. The panic that I had been feeling in the past weeks returned full force. Fleur had just come back with injuries. What if the reason behind Harry’s late arrival was because he had been hurt? I had been so distracted with everything that I briefly forgot that there was still a Second Task going on. Surely Harry would be fine, he’d been good up to now…but what if the Giant Squid had swallowed him whole? What if they had been keeping it in a cage up until the hour ended and then he was free to eat everyon—

And then I saw Harry’s head break the surface of the lake and a wave of relief passed through me. He pulled Ron and the little girl up with him, Gabrielle. All around him, wild, green-haired merpeople were emerging out of the water with him and they were smiling at Harry.

The crowd in the stands was making a great deal of noise; shouting and screaming, they all seemed to be on their feet. They had probably thought that Ron and Gabrielle might be dead, but they were wrong, both of them had opened their eyes; the girl looked scared and confused, but Ron merely expelled a great spout of water, blinked in the bright light, and turned to Harry. They argued back and forth before they pulled Fleur's sister through the water, towards the bank where the judges stood watching. Twenty merpeople accompanied them like a guard of honour, singing their horrible screechy songs. I stood and rushed over, Hermione and Cedric on my heels.

Dumbledore and Bagman stood beaming at Harry and Ron from the bank as they swam nearer, but Percy, who I had just noticed, looked very white and somehow much younger than usual, came splashing out to meet them. Meanwhile, Madame Maxime was trying to restrain Fleur Delacour, who was quite hysterical, fighting tooth and nail to return to the water.

"Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she 'urt?" 

"She's fine!" Harry shouted wearily.

Percy seized Ron and was dragging him back to the bank; Dumbledore and Bagman were pulling Harry upright; Fleur had broken free of Madame Maxime and was hugging her sister.

"It was ze grindylows, zey attacked me…oh Gabrielle, je pense…"

"Come here, you," Madam Pomfrey said. She seized Harry and moved him to where Hermione and I just were, wrapped him so tightly in a blanket that it looked as though he were in a straitjacket, and forced a measure of Pepperup Potion down his throat. Steam gushed out of his ears.

"Harry, well done!" Hermione cried. "You did it, you found out how all by yourself!"

"Well -" Harry said. He stared at Karkaroff who was watching him intently. "Yeah, that's right," Harry said, raising his voice slightly so that Karkaroff could hear him.

"You haff a water beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny," Krum said. I had a feeling that Krum was drawing her attention back onto himself; perhaps to remind her that he had just rescued her from the lake, but Hermione brushed away the beetle impatiently and said, "You're well outside the time limit, though, Harry…Did it take you ages to find us?"

"No…I found you okay…"

“I’m happy you’re back and okay,” I said to Harry, finally finding the courage to speak. Harry’s green eyes met mine. I could see straight away that he hadn’t been surprised to see me here on the shore. Had he seen me before Cedric rescued me? Harry looked back and forth between Cedric and I, his expression steely. I offered a small smile, hoping to receive one in return. Harry stared at me for a moment longer before he spoke.

“Thanks,” he said simply. I paled, was he mad?

Dumbledore was crouching at the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak Mermish. He straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."

The judges went into a huddle. Madam Pomfrey had gone to rescue Ron from Percy's clutches; she led him over to the rest of us, gave him a blanket and some Pepperup Potion, then went to fetch Fleur and her sister.

"Look after Gabrielle," she told her, and then she turned to Harry. "You saved 'er," she said breathlessly. "Even though she was not your 'ostage."

"Yeah," Harry said, looking to his feet.

Fleur bent down, kissed Harry twice on each cheek, then said to Ron, "And you too-you 'elped -"

"Yeah," Ron said, looking extremely hopeful, "yeah, a bit -"

Fleur swooped down on him too and kissed him. Both boys were blushing and I kind of wanted to throw them back into the icy waters. Hermione looked simply furious, but just then, Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside us, making us all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows…Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

Applause from the stands.

“I deserved zero," Fleur said throatily, shaking her magnificent head.

"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour." Enormous cheers came from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd; I looked to Cedric, who was already looking at me, and reddened again. "We therefore award him forty-seven points."

My heart sank. If Cedric and I had been outside the time limit, Harry most certainly had been.

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.

"Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued. "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."

Ron and Hermione both gave Harry half-exasperated, half-commiserating looks. My heart staggered, he had wanted to make sure we were all okay. I had seen in the past months that Harry was a kind-hearted person, but this…just the thought of how caring Harry was made me emotional. I let in a shaky breath, looking at Harry and then back at the judges’ table.

"Most of the judges," and here, Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, "feel that this shows moral fibre and merits full marks. However, Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."

My stomach leapt, he was now tied for first place with Cedric. Ron and Hermione, caught by surprise, stared at Harry, then laughed and started applauding hard with the rest of the crowd.

"There you go. Harry!" Ron shouted over the noise. "You weren't being thick after all - you were showing moral fibre!"

Fleur was clapping very hard too, but Krum didn't look happy at all. He attempted to engage Hermione in conversation again, but she was too busy cheering Harry to listen.

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," continued Bagman. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions."

It was over, for now.

“I want all of you to follow me to the Hospital Wing. I would like to make sure that all of you are at full health and that you get some warm clothes…” Madam Pomfrey said.

We began walking back to the castle before the rest of the school were allowed to leave. Everyone looked just as tired as I felt, obvious by their slow movements. Cedric had fallen into step with Krum, who was talking to him very seriously, but kept looking back to me. I was walking with Harry, Hermione, and Ron, the latter two ripping into Harry jovially.

Then a flash of anger passed through Ron’s face. “Hermione!”

“Yeah?” She replied, an eyebrow raised.

“Why were you Krum’s hostage?” His tell-tale ears were red.

“What’s it matter to you?” She said annoyedly.

I fell back, not having enough energy to mediate another one of their fights. Harry surprisingly did the same. We walked in silence at first, letting our footsteps do the talking.

“Hazel…” Harry said, an uncertainty in his voice.

“Good job back there,” I said, actually speaking my mind for once. “I know Hermione and Ron think you’re an idiot for trying to save us all…but I think that was very chivalrous of you.”

“Uh, thanks,” he said. Harry raised his head and met my eyes, “but that’s not what I-I…actually it’s none of my business.”

“What’s wrong?”

Harry flushed, “Are you and Cedric in a relationship?”

I choked on my spit. He had caught me off guard. “W-what?!” I cleared my throat. “No!”

My face felt like it was fire and I could only hope that it didn’t look that way. Harry looked much the same but with a hint of what seemed to be anger. “It’s alright if you are…” he said, looking at his feet again.

“No, we’re not—I’m not!” I took a deep breath. “Why would you think that?”

“I saw you at the Yule Ball dancing together. You seemed friendly…” he looked at me briefly. “And then today…”

I didn’t even need Madam Pomfrey’s help anymore, I was so hot that I had half a mind to throw the thick blanket off.

“Why would he miss you, then?” he asked. There was no bite to his words, just sadness?

“I don’t know, I’m not his keeper.” I bit my lip, trying to read Harry’s face. “I’ll forever be thankful for his help at the World Cup, but I do not know what goes through his mind.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry said. We didn’t say another word.

Hermione and Ron eventually tired of their argument by the time we entered the Entrance Hall. The four of us were walking together again until Fleur grabbed Harry and asked him to tell her how he saved her sister. Ron, not wanting to be left out, chased after them. Hermione followed him with a dark look in her eyes, at which point I laid a hand on her shoulder. “Let him look like the idiot he is.”

Krum and Cedric, who had been leading to line up to this point, looked back and walked to Hermione and me.

“May I talk to you?” Krum asked, looking at Hermione hopefully.

“Sure,” she said, giving me one last look before splitting off with Krum.

“You feeling warm enough?” Cedric asked. I turned to him and he had a soft smile.

“Yeah, being in the castle’s helping.” I said. I was still feeling the residual heat from my interaction with Harry.

“That’s good…” We were nearing the Hospital Wing. “The thought of you down there, it worried me, if I’m being honest.”

I turned red for the millionth time that day, “Oh.”

The rest of our small group entered the Wing and I paused, looking at the door, and then turned to have my back against it.

“Why me?” I asked, quietly.

Now that I was away from the rest of the school and in relative quietness, my thoughts cleared a little more. I began to talk to myself, “How could I have been so flippant and so casual in front of everyone? Allowed myself to relax and just…For the whole year I have been trying to protect myself from making any friends, and now I’m…I don’t know…”

“What are you talking about, Hazel?” Cedric asked, concern in his voice.

I turned to look at him. I knew that he wasn’t necessarily following, but it was all flowing out of me at this point. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen! Now everyone is talking about us and how or why was I the one underwater when you and Cho went to the Ball together.”

“Well, I asked you to go, didn’t I?”

This hit me like I had been slapped. There was no malice to Cedric’s words, but the reality of it made me feel like I had been hit by a Bludger. I stayed silent, initially unable to meet his gaze. When I did, I wished I could turn away. His eyes bore into mine with an intensity that I didn’t know he had. It wasn’t anger though…I-I couldn’t place what it was.

I tugged the blanket around my shoulders closer to my body as I plucked up the courage to continue.

“And now, Harry…”

“What about Harry?” He asked, looking past me and at the Hospital Wing door.

“He’s my…my f-friend.” I stumbled over the word, shocked by the veracity of it. Deep down, I knew that I had started to form a friendship with him —as well as Cedric— but I had tried my hardest to rid that feeling from me because I was scared of what it could lead to. How hurt I might be if I had to move. The connections I’d made in just a few months with Harry and Cedric rivalled any other bonds (or maybe relationships) I’ve had before.

Indignation coursed through my veins, “He’s only of one of the two other people in this school with whom I’ve trusted with what happened last summer. You two are the only people I have at this bloody school other than my brother! And he’s related to me, so really, it’s out of obligation.”

“Hazel, you know that’s not true.” His eyes were filled with hurt. “I can see from how others interact with you that Harry and I aren’t the only people at Hogwarts who care for you. I won’t lie, I’ll fight another dragon if it meant that you would be okay…but if you would just open your eyes, you’d see a support system that would be there for you if you’d ask.”

“But Cedric,” I stomped my foot down onto the stone floor and a thick _slap!_ echoed through the hallway, I didn’t want him to be right. “why _me_?”

He searched my eyes, an unreadable expression on his face. “Who else am I going to miss?”

“Your friends, maybe…or one of your parents?”

“Well, of course, I’d miss them but I _know_ I’m going to see them even after I finish my seventh year. You…you on the other hand…”

I was suddenly struck by what he was saying and when I tried to speak, it didn’t come out as anything more than a whisper. “What about me?” I asked, a shiver coursing through me.

He stepped closer, my body in the shadow of his as we stood closer, just a small measure apart now. “I don’t know where we stand. I mean, do you want to see me after I’ve graduated?”

I closed my eyes and attempted to command my mind to organize some sort of witty retort, but I couldn’t. This was becoming all too real and all too fast. Was Cedric being serious? I knew that in the past we’d been flirtatious, I’m not going to lie and I know my part in that…there was also that fact that at the Yule Ball where we’d just about bared our hearts to one another.

“Ha,” I laughed weakly, “of course, I’ll need my oversized badger pincushion at some point.” My words didn’t have the flirtatious bite that it’d normally be laced with as I let out a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding.

His eyes softened as he stepped to be closer to me still. The dark grey blanket that lay on his shoulders truly contrasted the brightness of his eyes and reminded me that the man before me was one of the gentlest souls and brightest lights I’d met. “I’m sorry, Hazel, it’s just…I’ve said just about everything up to the line that I’d promised not to cross to tell you about how I feel about you…Not until you’re ready.”

He took a deep breath and then restarted, “Let me rephrase, I’ve expressed to you what you mean to me on multiple occasions, or at least what you’ve allowed me to say. I notice how hesitant you become are when I express my affections towards you. I want you to know that I respect you and what you’ve asked me not to say, and I promise that I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

I knew we were skirting around it.

“Promise to wait until what?” I had an idea of what it was, but it scared me. I pressed my nails into my palm, using the pain from that as something to focus on.

He walked forwards and tenderly grabbed my left hand. Hanging from it was the bracelet he had gotten as a Christmas present, I had taken to wearing it every day. When Cedric saw it, his cheeks turned a light shade of pink and he smiled. He squeezed my hand, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of it, “I’ll wait until you tell me that you like me as much as I like you…” he paused. “Or, if you tell me right now or sometime later that you don’t feel the same way as I do, I’ll let you go. It won’t be easy and it’ll take time for me to really get over you but I’ll still be your friend, nothing will change on that end. I won’t let my feelings get in the way of being here for you. No matter what moniker our relationship has, “friends” or “lovers”, I _promise_ to be there for you.”

The nerve endings in my hands began to tingle, the spot where he was rubbing felt like it was on fire. I could feel the beginnings of an anxiety attack starting. It felt as though my throat was closing up and my chest hurt…and then Cedric squeezed my hand. I knew I should be happy, I knew that any normal person who was just confessed to would be ecstatic. Instead, I was trying to hold back tears. As genuine as Cedric had always been, I still found it hard to believe him.

_Why would you like me?_ I thought. _I’m fucked up. You shouldn’t like me._

I looked up at him, saying nothing, incapable to forming coherent sentences.

“Like I said, don’t fret over it. You don’t have to say anything now,” he made towards the door. “You know, I’ve been wondering since I saw you in the water just how the judges or professors chose you.”

I stepped away and made room for him to open the large door. “I don’t know either,” I said in a quiet voice. I had just stepped through when it hit me, “Oh…oh.”

He closed it behind him and looked at me, “Do you know?”

I nodded, trying not to make eye contact. “I think I’ve seen McGonagall and Dumbledore spot us together. Like the night you walked me back to Gryffindor Tower and during the Yule Ball…”

“Oh!” Cedric said, his face flushing a little. “I hadn’t noticed them I guess…too busy?”

Madam Pomfrey came rushing over, “Where have the two of you been?” She forcefully grabbed us by our blankets and led us to beds next to each other. Half the room had already been attended to. Hermione and Krum were sitting next to each other on a bed with Krum talking to her quietly, Hermione didn’t look very excited to talk. They were both wearing plain blue matching pyjamas. Gabrielle was wearing the same thing, although her sister was still wet. Ron was staring stoically at Hermione, a dark look in his normally bright blue eyes. He and Harry were still wet, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to tend to them. I met Harry gaze and I gave him a small smile. He did the same very briefly and then he nodded and turned away. It shouldn’t have affected me, but it did.

Madam Pomfrey gave Cedric and a set of the pyjamas and said, “Go ahead and dress, I’ll come back and check you both for any injuries after I finish with the rest of them.” She turned on her heel and walked away, but not before flicking her wand behind her and magically closing the curtains.

I sat on the bed and stared at the curtain that I knew had Cedric behind it.

“No,” I whispered, “no, don’t even think. Just get dressed and distract yourself. Self-preservation.”

Once I was dressed, I opened my partition. If I was going to be left alone with my thoughts, I was going to explode. Everyone was still in the same positions as I had left them.

I sat on edge of my bed, watching each person in turn. Ron was still staring at Hermione, Harry was sat next to him trying to make conversation, and the elder Delacour was being taken care of by Madam Pomfrey.

“Hey, Hazel?” I turned and met Cedric. He was standing tentatively next to the curtain that separated our two beds.

“Yeah, Cedric?” I said throatily.

He walked closer and sat next to me on my bed. “I see how much you’re overthinking about it right now and I just want to repeat that while I’d like a response, I’m not necessarily asking for one. I’m fully content with being your friend.”

I tried to conjure something witty to say but the only thing that came out was, “Thanks.”

He nodded and we waited in silence until Madam Pomfrey made her way to us. She tended to me first, inspecting my exposed skin. When she was satisfied that I hadn’t been harmed, she waved her wand and dried my hair.

“Alright, Mister Diggory,” she did the same routine with him. “If you could lift your shirt?”

My eyes widened and I stared at her, mouth agape. Shouldn’t she have at least asked me to step out?

“Come on, I’m trying to get you all out of here as soon as possible.”

Cedric looked from her to me, a confused expression on his face, and then simply smirked and lifted his pyjama top. I sucked in a breath, the newly exposed skin causing a stir in my insides. He left his toned torso on display well after Madam Pomfrey had declared it wound free. He had let go of his top but didn’t bother covering the last few inches of exposed stomach as the nurse checked his arms and legs.

“Show off,” I muttered when Madam Pomfrey went and got everyone one last dose of Pepperup Potion.

“Only when there someone interesting who might see,” he replied, an eyebrow raised.

I hit him lightly on the arm and he held up his hands in defeat.

“Please gather and drink up. As soon as you do so, you are free to leave and return to your dorms or go to lunch.”

We all clambered around the tray she held up. Hermione took this opportunity to sidle up next to me and out of Krum’s reach. He noticed but looked didn’t say anything.

“Gah,” The potion’s strong peppermint felt like I had just swallowed a cup of mouthwash.

I stood to the side while waiting for the rest of the Gryffindors to finish up. Cedric was talking to Fleur and Krum. “I’ll walk you all down.” He said when they had all finished. He appeared like he was going to walk past me but he paused right before he did.  

“I’ll see you around the castle,” Cedric said. He winked and made through the doors with Gabrielle, Fleur, and Krum. I was left flustered in his wake.

Ron walked over to me with a questioning look, “Are you and Cedric a thing?”

“No,” I said, “Are you and Hermione?” I looked to the curly haired girl gulping down her potion.

He turned red but nodded in understanding.

The walk to the Great Hall was fraught with awkward conversation. I tried to fill most of it, talking about classes and school drama I had heard in the hallways.

“I heard that Malfoy and Parkinson were caught doing something _dirty_ at the Yule Ball.” I said, remembering what Parvati and Lavender had been talking about the week before. “They came back from the Entrance Hall with their robes worn haphazardly.”

“Gross,” Ron said, coming out of his self-induced silence. “That’s like if a skrewt and a grindylow got it off together!” He gagged.

“Oh, grow up, Ron,” Hermione said, “it’s perfectly natural!”

Ron looked at her, “Are you saying that Ferret and Pug Face getting it on is okay with you?”

“It doesn’t affect me,” Hermione shrugged.

“Yeah, just wait until their Pug-Ferret hybrids infect the school. Don’t come crying to me when that happens!”

“We’d be out of school by then.”

“You never let me have fun, Hermione,” Ron said, putting his hands in his pockets.

Harry, who had been silent, suddenly started laughing. The three of us stared at him.

“You okay?” I asked, a smile playing on my lips.

Harry nodded, unable to speak at first. “…I’m…I’m imaging a pug face on a tiny ferret body and I—I, oh God, bah!”

I started giggling, I wasn’t as amused as Harry was but the fact that he had relaxed and was cheerful once more made me feel the same. The tension I had been feeling since our small conversation just a short while ago eased and I felt light on my feet.

Ron had found the image just as hilarious as Harry and was guffawing. Hermione simply smiled.

Lunch was uneventful but pleasant. Dinner much the same. We were delayed in our return to Gryffindor Tower when Seamus, saying that he could turn water in the wine, accidentally blew up the goblet in front of him. Between laughs we helped to clean him up and the area around him.

“ _Monoceros_.” I said when we had finally reached the Fat Lady.

“You may enter,” she replied, shockingly sober for this time of night.

No sooner had we entered the common room did it erupt in cheers. Harry smiled shyly as he was pulled in deeper by the Weasley Twins.

“Three cheers for Harry!” Fred shouted.

The Gryffindors responded with raucous roars.

Everyone had been congratulating Harry throughout the day but there was renewed vigour as everyone screamed. Two Seventh-Years I didn’t see that often lifted Harry onto their shoulders. Although we had just had dinner, there was a large spread of food from the kitchens. The twins _promised_ that these weren’t tainted and perfectly safe to eat. For a few hours, that was true. Around ten at night, a Fifth-Year sipped on some orange juice and began to foam bubbles from her mouth. The bubbles floated around the common room, delighted Gryffindors popping ones that came their way. The girl was good-natured about the prank since at least she hadn’t turned into a canary.

“One and all, we introduce Otters Fizzy Orange Juice! All the nutrients from regular orange juice _plus_ an added bonus of watching your friends uncontrollably burp bubbles! Eight Sickles per bottle!” George announced delightedly. A small crowd surrounded the twins.

By eleven most of the tower had gone up to their dorms, it _was_ a school night. It was such a small group that I knew the name every person that was left: Harry, Ron, Hermione, the Weasley twins, Angelina, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and the rest of the Gryffindor Fourth-Years. We were all sat in chairs and couches around the fire with some talking lazily and others speaking with vigour. Those who were on the Quidditch team were talking of games and practices of the past.

“Do you remember,” Angelina paused because she couldn’t hold back her laughter, “when Fred ‘accidentally’ hit the Bludger at George during practice in Second-Year and George threw up on him as revenge? Alicia laughed and nodded at her friend.

Lavender and Parvati were asking Faye about the “mysterious boyfriend” that they believed she had.

“Again, I don’t have a boyfriend!”

“Then why are you always hanging around that Fifth-Year, oh, what was her name?” Parvati tapped her chin.

“Sabrina Sui!” Lavender said.

Faye blushed and I leaned towards the three, “Why don’t the two of you mind your business? If Faye doesn’t want to talk about it, a good friend would drop it.”

Faye mouthed a ‘thank you’ from behind Lavender and Parvati’s heads.

“We’re just having fun!” Lavender whined.

“If your fun is at another’s expense, you should seriously reconsider your life choices.”

I chose this moment to turn back to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were in the middle of a discussion about the Second Task. Harry had admitted earlier that he had had Dobby’s help for the Second Task. The affection I felt towards the house-elf doubled. He had done what the three of us had failed in the past weeks, saved Harry’s life.

I looked at my watch, it read half past eleven. I wasn’t tired even at the late hour, I was still wired up from the morning’s events. I kept stealing looks at Harry…Harry who looked sad when he asked about Cedric.

My breath caught in my throat…Cedric. Cedric Diggory who had just hours earlier admitted to _liking_ me. _Liking me_.

“The lake water’s probably polluted,” I said to myself.

“What? What about the lake?” Hermione asked, turning to me.

“Oh, nothing, don’t mind me,” I curled deeper into the couch, letting the ambient noise of my housemates fill my mind…anything to keep myself distracted.

Before long it was midnight and games were being played around the room. The twins were playing exploding snap with their fellow Gryffindor Quidditch team, sans Harry. My roommates were trying to read each other’s palms. Hermione couldn’t stop yawning, each of her sentences were punctuated by one.

“Did you want to want to head up with me?” Hermione asked as she stood up. I shook my head, knowing that if I headed up now while still fully awake, I would spend the rest of the night analysing my life.

“Not sleepy yet,” I said, offering her a smile.

“See you later, then.”

Neville follow went soon after. I stared into the fire and continued listening to the laughter and conversation around me. The sounds started to become white noise and without meaning to, I started to lose myself in thought.

_Why would Cedric like me? There’s nothing about me to warrant care like that…I’m damaged goods. I need to somehow get that through his thick skull. There are so many other people at this school, people prettier, nicer, not as weird…I’m weak anyway, I couldn’t fight off so much as an ant…_

As I fell deeper into myself, my chest started to tighten. The white noise I had been so thankful for moments ago felt like a piercing buzz in my ears…the laughter, pointed jabs at my sorry state.

“Everything okay?” Harry asked.

My train of thought broke and I whipped my head around to face him. He was still seated on the couch next to mine but Ron wasn’t by his side anymore. I glanced to a few feet away and saw him playing chess with Dean.

My heart felt like it was racing but I replied in an even tone, “Honestly? Not really.”

Concern overwhelmed his kind eyes, “What’s wrong?”

“I feel like the walls are closing around me...what I wouldn’t do for some peace and quiet…” I laid a hand on my chest and forced it to rise and fall slowly.

He got up from his couch and sat where Hermione had been earlier. He grasped my hands in his, “What can I do?”

“Nothing, unless you can make everyone leave…but that’s rude…” My chest still hurt.

“Wait here,” he let go of my hands and they immediately missed the warmth that he had brought. He was about to walk away when he bent down and whispered in my ear, “go stand by the boys’ stairs in a minute.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Just trust me.”

I nodded, watching his back as he jogged up the stairs. I looked around the common room to see if anyone had been paying attention to us. Quite the contrary, everyone was still distracted with their fun and no one even noticed when I stood up and casually leaned against the wall a moment later.

_Weak, Hazel. Weak. You are weak._

“Psst, Hazel.” I stood up properly and looked around. No one had seemed to call my name.

A disembodied hand appeared out of nowhere and reached for mine, “It’s me, Harry, get under here before someone sees.”

I grabbed it and pulled the fabric up from where our hands were joined. It was oddly familiar being back under his invisibility cloak. Without another word, he pulled me through the common room and towards the entrance behind the Fat Lady.

She swung open when Harry pushed on her. When we were closing the portrait, she looked around curiously, trying to see who had disturbed her, but in her drowsy haze, she shrugged and went back to sleep. I already felt a little better from the quiet of the school.

“Where are we going?” I whispered while Harry dragged me down the stairs.

“Somewhere.” He said, focusing on staying as quiet as possible. At one point we thought we heard Mrs. Norris trotting up the stairs but it turned out to be a portrait’s inhabitant’s snores.

At the fifth-floor, Harry opened the door and pulled us through the corridor until we reached a tower. It registered a second later that this lead to the Astronomy Tower. Harry turned his head and looked at me, “You okay back there?”

“Sorta,” I replied sheepishly.

The air was cold and the sky clear when we made it to the top of the tower. The stars above us were shining brightly behind the waning crescent moon. My chest lightened a little and I made my way to a purchase in the half wall. The top of the Astronomy Tower had no ceiling, normally for the use of our telescopes…but tonight it was to help my nerves and self-doubt calm the hell down.

I leaned my elbows atop the wall, looking out at the dark grounds and even darker Forbidden Forest. I tilted my head up, watching the sky instead. The stars twinkled at me, as if trying to tell me to calm down.

“’I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.’”

“What?” Harry asked, leaning on the wall right next to me.

“It’s from van Gogh,” I replied, tracing constellations I recognised, “I have always remembered that quote because he and I have the same birthday.”

“Wait, you’re over a hundred?” He asked, turning to stare at me. 

I met his dumb face and stuck my tongue out at him, holding back a grin. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“Maybe I do…but I did get you to be less sad with my stupid joke.” Harry ran a hand through his eternally messy hair and smirked.

“Debateable.” I shrugged.

For a few minutes, we simply looked out into the night, letting the stars do their sparking thing.

A white streak appeared in the night sky. “Oh, a shooting star!” I said, hitting Harry in the shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I noticed him follow to where I was pointing.

“Make a wish.” Harry said.

“Honestly, Harry, I’m not five,” I said with a small smile.

“Fine, your choice. I, for one, will make the best wish.” He closed his eyes and I watched his face scrunch up as he made his wish.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the big smile was currently inhabiting my face. I closed my eyes and thought hard. 

_What should I even wish for? Something material? An experience? Maybe a miraculous change in the way I think of myself…no. Okay, I got it._

_Please let me be happy in the end._

I opened my eyes and found Harry staring at me. “Did you wish for something good?” He asked softly.

“Better than yours probably,” I quipped. 

“You don’t even know what I wished for,” he replied. 

“Don’t have to.” I grinned at him and he returned it.

More minutes passed without us speaking. But it wasn’t awkward, I felt at ease and didn’t feel like I had to fill in the silence like I always did. My mind was thankfully blank, or almost there, I wasn’t thinking about things that prompted me to be filled with dread at least. 

He bumped the side of his body against mine. “What’s been eating you?” Harry questioned quietly.

“Huh?” 

“I could see that you were a little out of it earlier and then you were so anxious all of a sudden that it kind of worried me,” he sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall. I did the same. 

“Ha, I don’t want to bog you down with my internal drama,” I said, forcing a chuckle. 

“I told you the morning after Halloween that I’m here for you,” he sighed, “I wasn’t lying, I meant it.”

The earnest look on his face was enough to tell me that he truly cared. I took a deep breath, readying myself. “I can’t get out of my head. I feel unworthy. I doubt everything I do and I’ve been feeling like that more and more lately. When I allow myself to have time to think, I start spiralling, making myself feel worse about any given situation. This stupid brain of mine won’t stop obsessing, it won’t allow me to rest.”

Tears were threatening to drop but I looked up to the stars again, trying to force them back in.

“I-I actually feel the same way sometimes,” Harry admitted. “I have all these expectations that people have of me and I don’t want to let them down. Before both tasks, I got so panicky and couldn’t stop doubting what I knew.”

I scooted closer to Harry and sat crisscrossed in front of him, our knees were touching.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked hitting his knee with mine.

“Like you, I didn’t want to dump everything on someone else. It’s my burden to bear.”

“But you’re different, you have real things to worry about, not just stupid, dumb things like me.”

“Don’t demean your feelings when they’re just as valid as anyone else’s.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. We had been doing that more and more lately, whenever I did that to him, it was to calm him down before an outburst. Whenever he did that to me…it centred me.

I leaned in and poked his chest, “Then let’s come to an agreement. When one of us feels like everything’s too much, we’ll lean on each other to get through it.” I didn’t know how committed I’d be to that promise, but I wanted him to know without a doubt that I’d be there, always.

“Okay,” he said with a small smile.

“Okay.”

We sat in silence once again. Our faces were so close that I could count the few freckles that he had on his face. Twenty-one. There was one just below his left eye that was so far away from the small cluster on his nose that if we hadn’t been in such close proximity, I would have thought he had a little bit of dirt on his face.

“I like your freckles,” I whispered.

Harry’s cheeks reddened. “I like yours.”

I touched my cheeks, where most of my freckles were. “But yours are better, more evenly arranged.” I countered.

“You’re mad…” he chuckled softly.

“Except this one, this one tried to escape,” I said, reaching my hand up and holding the side of his face. Using my thumb, I rubbed the wayward spot. Harry closed his eyes and leaned into my hand. Seconds later his eyes shot open and he stared at my hand. I froze, ready to retract. I had gone too far. “Sorry.”

His hand enclosed mind, keeping it in place. “No, don’t,” he let out a breath, “I don’t mind.”

A shiver trailed up my spine as I continued to stare into his darkened eyes. An emotion so strong, so strange to me, enveloped my body. I leaned in and kissed Harry. His lips, which I had been thinking about for most of the year, were as soft as I’d thought.

I pulled away, eyes wide, realising what I had done. Harry’s hand reached tenderly behind my head and pulled me back in with another kiss. It was gentle at first, but that wasn’t what I needed. I needed to feel his body against mine, I needed to know that this wasn’t my imagination. Without removing my lips from his, I crawled into his lap, straddling him. His free hand held me closely by the small of my back. The touch was light, almost hesitant in nature, and it tickled the exposed skin underneath. Another wave of shivers travelled through me and I relaxed into his hold. 

My heart was beating rapidly in my chest and I felt lightheaded, but I kissed him harder, earning a throaty groan. He returned it just as hard and I gasped, feeling my face warm. 

Our mouths were moving against each other like old friends. All the lip-staring I had inadvertently done during classes had apparently helped.

I was the one to pull away. He seemed surprised with the lack of contact and opened his eyes, his confusion obvious. I felt like my body was on fire, not even the piercing chill of the night could calm me down. Air was coming in and out of my mouth in short bursts; Harry had taken my breath away. I looked down to his chest to see if he was feeling the same way. He was breathing heavily, although I should have noticed that already since my hands were on his ches—

“Oh fuck,” I said, scrambling to dismount him. In…in my haze, I hadn’t realised that I had made my way onto Harry’s lap. I sat against the wall next to him, unable to meet him in the eyes. “Sorry.”

Harry cleared his throat. “N-nothing to be sorry about.”

I shook my head and faced him, “I crossed a line.”

“I would have told you if you did.” He stood up and held out a hand.

I was sufficiently distracted from Cedric and all my other anxieties now…all I _could_ do was think about what I had just done.

“Hazel?” I looked up at him. “Let’s go back inside, it’s getting late.”

I nodded and took his hand, ignoring the tingling sensation I felt. He grabbed his cloak which had been laying on the ground in a small heap. Harry stepped to stand behind me and threw the cloak over us. He took a hold of my hand and whispered, “You can lead the way.”


End file.
